Touch Me
by Shmeadly
Summary: What if Juliette had touched Warner when he provoked her in Chapter 21 of Shatter Me?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This is a series that is truly beloved to me. All the rights to the story and characters belong to Tahereh Mafi. The underlined words are the equivalent of the strikethroughs in the story. Thanks!**

Warner closes the space between us quickly. All the air rushes out of my chest in one breath. Everything is just a little too close all of a sudden. Too close, too close, too close. I can feel the evil pouring off his shoulders, drifting around his entire being.

He smiles and narrows his eyes, thinking I'm breathless from lust, not from fear. Maybe I am. How did this become my life? In a matter of weeks I have gone from hiding in the corner of a cell that I thought I would die in to standing in front of a shirtless 19-year-old boy on a military base. Not only that, I was placed in my concrete prison for harming a small child with my touch. And now I am here. And he's demanding that I do it all over again.

My fear cannot stop my rage, though. I raise both my hands so they rest just an inch from his gorgeously sculpted chest. Blue mixes with green when our eyes meet. Mine convey a warning, a chance to take it all back; his are defiant, stupidly brave and ready to try anything.

I close my eyes and draw in a breath. Rage courses through me like never before. My hands fall forward and land just above Warner's abs.

A gasp.

The usual rush of feeling someone else's skin contacting mine.

I take a moment to enjoy the simple pleasure of touching another person. Even if that person is evil, bloodthirsty, and my worst enemy.

Then I open my eyes.

I notice three things all at once. First: I feel exactly the same. Second: My energy is almost diminished. Three: Warner is still on his feet.

My eyes fall closed again, but my hands remain in place. They contract in frustration so that just the tips of my fingers are brushing his abdomen. He takes in another sharp breath. But not from pain. _This is not happening. This is NOT happening to me._ I want to scream, to cry, to fall to my knees because it cannot be possible that the one person I hate most on this earth, the only being whose existence I would ever consider ending, is immune to my power.

A 19-year-old blonde boy with a gun in his belt and an evil glint in his eye is safe from Mother Nature's little trick, but the wide-eyed abused little boy doesn't get to grow up?

I finally look back up, but I am met with yet another surprise. Instead of the cocky smirk I was sure would be plastered across his face, his expression is pure surprise. Shock. Then, slowly, unadulterated happiness. I can see my face, heartbroken, scared, confused, all my emotions reflected in his eyes.

I feel a slight wistfulness pass through me as my hands drop away and the contact ends. Before I have a chance to miss it, he picks my hands back up again and simply holds them in his own. I try to pull away, but he simply holds them tighter.

"Juliette," his voice is breathy. I love the way he says my name. He glances down at my hands and then back to my face. "This is the most exquisite feeling I have ever had."

He pauses again, marveling at whatever he is experiencing, "Is this what it is like when you touch people?" He asks, as if I can feel what he is feeling. I have never seen Warner so entranced. Almost innocent. A new level of respect for me appears on Warner's face. It's as if he can't imagine why I don't touch people all the time, simply for the rush.

"What are you talking about? I don't feel anything. It's like you took my power…"

Realization hits me squarely in the chest. _Warner took my power._ _Warner took my power!_ A million questions bubble to the surface. Is he "gifted" like myself? Are there actually others? Could he take their powers if he wanted?

No answers are to be found, however, because Warner suddenly pushes me back. My spine contacts the wall, but not uncomfortably so. He pins me there with my arms at my sides.

And he leans in to my ear.

So.

Close.

 _Come closer._

"Juliette….this changes everything."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I wasn't sure if I wanted to continue this story or leave it as is, but I was convinced to keep going. I have to admit I do not have a solid plan, but I'm working on it. By the way, did you all know that Shatter Me has been optioned for television? It's so exciting!Thanks, everyone!**

I am sitting in bed, knees drawn to my chest in a familiar position. I don't cry. Of course, my eyes puff and swell anyway. How can it be possible that my world has fallen apart this many times? Time after time I have figured things out just for the world to laugh at my preconceptions and twist me back around its little finger.

Warner left me here an hour ago. I've counted to a thousand and back down again twice. I started counting the hairs on my head. I've been alone the entire time with nothing but my thoughts to bother me. Exactly three people have experienced my touch since I have arrived. Three people with three different gradations of goodness. Adam: the truly good and the best person in my life, Warner: the completely evil, the one that wants to use me, and Jenkins: the man I know nothing about except how it felt to drain his life. There is no pattern, no method, no common denominator, just chaos and so so so much confusion.

Suddenly the door clicks open. Adam. My love, my hope, my bird. I try to smile, try to uncurl myself, but he knows. Adam always knows. He places a jacket he's holding on the edge of my bed. He slowly approaches me. He's cautious, but ready. Adam's teetering between keeping his distance and pouncing on me. He settles for perching on the edge of the bed.

"Hi," he says tentatively.

"Hi," my answer is barely a whisper, but I know he hears me.

"I saw Warner after your meeting. He looked more smug than usual. I figured that meant bad things." Adam inches a little closer, asking me a million wordless questions. "Looks like I was right." I just shake my head.

"I can't talk about this, Adam." I stand and make my way around the room. I've lived here such a short time, but this room is filled with more memories than anywhere else I've bathroom where I touched Adam, the armoire where I found my journal, the spot on the floor where I slept next to Adam. All of it feels sacred, and yet I wouldn't be surprised if this whole base were straight from Hell.

I turn around, unsurprised to find Adam watching me.

"Juliette, you can. I know you've never been able to trust anyone in the past, but that's changed now. I am here, and I promise you I won't leave unless I have you on my arm." He struts forward, suddenly confident.

I smile at him. A true smile, the first one in a while. My hands reach for his, but the words remain locked in my head. There is no denying Adam's love for and mine for him, but we've always been linked through touch. He has been the only one I could touch my entire life. How am I supposed to admit that I share that bond with Warner as well?

I return to the bed, my toes just barely touching the floor. Adam sighs, paces a few times and runs his fingers through his hair. He tries to crack me open one more time.

"Juliette. You are the one person on this base that I can trust. The only one that I can reveal myself to. I know you know how that feels, and I know you remember how it feels to be blocked out. Please, Juliette, don't block me out. I-I love you, Juliette."

This boy is going to kill me. He doesn't realize how much harder his love makes this. He does realize that I would do anything for him. And that's exactly what he's doing now. He's making it about him so I can't refuse.

I take his hands in mine again, one of my favorite things to do. I run my fingers over his palms, hoping that he'll change his mind. His breath hitches for a moment, but he looks just as determined as ever. My mouth opens and closes a few times before the words come.

"Warner….Warner can…" My eyes fall closed. Who would have thought that words could ever be harder than actions. Adam is patient. He leans forward and places his arms on my shoulders, comforting me.

I start again, "Warner can touch me." All four words come out in one breath. One quick huff and the sentence is gone, can never be taken back or forgotten.

Adam is silent. His hands drop from my shoulders and he steps back. His eyes don't leave my face, but they look more distant than ever. I lift my hand to smooth out the crease in his forehead, but he dodges my fingers.

"Adam," I whisper, incredulous. Suddenly, he is spurred into motion by some internal force. He picks up his discarded jacket and walks to the door.

"Adam!" I say, more forceful this time. Adam pauses with his hand on the doorknob. This is it. This is the decision that will define our relationship from this moment forward. And he choses wrong.

Adam turns the doorknob and walks out. On me. On us. On everything he ever told me he wanted.

Just minutes ago he told me he would never leave me. He told me he knew the pain of watching people shut him out. He told me he loved me.

He promised me things. And within five minutes he broke every. single. one.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: I feel so terrible to leave you all with this cliffhanger and to keep putting off all the "Warnette" moments, but as I am writing this, it just doesn't feel like their time yet. I love them together as much as anyone, so trust me when I say you won't be waiting too much longer. Thank you all for your amazing words! Enjoy.**

Two days pass in which I have no contact to the outside world beside maids with meals. Both days I donned one of the many dresses in the expansive closet, only to switch them out for soft jeans when no one came to my door.

I don't bother to dress up today. Instead, I simply pick up a deck of cards from a drawer in the bedside table and deal a game of solitaire, the only card game I know. My mind wanders, but eventually comes to Adam. I wonder where he is. I am still his charge, though I wouldn't be surprised if he requested a change.

Warner never lets me see much when I leave this room, but at least then I know what is happening. Adam might be right outside my doorway, or halfway across the world. Warner might be planning my death or hanging decorations for a ball on base. For all I know, everyone on Earth could be long dead.

I can't sit still anymore. My feet carry me around my room without my brain's permission. As my thoughts get crazier and crazier, my feet move faster. My mind tries to distract itself by reaching into drawer after drawer around the room and looking through the contents.

I have to stop thinking about this. Adam Adam. I need to get my thoughts back on track. Adam Adam Adam. Without Adam my soldier assistant, I'll need to develop a new escape plan. Adam's The old plan was meant to take place any day now. We had it all planned out. Isn't it heartbreaking funny how fast things can change?

Three sharp taps erupt from the door and scare me out of my skin.

Warner enters to find me wild-eyed and disheveled, holding onto the handle of a drawer, all the rest still hanging open from my escapade. His eyes follow my body in that familiar horrid way they always have. The set of his mouth is just a little different than usual, almost reminiscent of a smile. Even when he resets his face in that mask of his, there is something different in his expression. It almost makes me wonder if I really know him as much as I say I do.

Almost.

"Juliette, love, please get dressed. It seems we have much to discuss."

I choose a white skater dress with long sleeves and black lace at the bottom. It is simple, tasteful, and the sleeves give me some semblance of control, even if most of my legs are exposed. I even concede to some of the shoes in my closet, not willing to argue with Warner so early in the day. Simple black flat shoes catch my attention and I am surprised to find that they are reasonably comfortable.

"Perfect. Shall we?" Warner offers me a gloved hand.

My eyebrows pull together, "Why do you need a glove? Still scared?"

I only intended to tease him, but Warner is more serious than ever when he replies. "Love, you have touched two people since you have arrived on base. The first, as I've said, was a stunt to ensure your safety here. If we walk out of this room, arm in arm, skin on skin, they will do the math. As far as anyone knows, they would have a fifty percent chance of being completely unscathed, exhilarated even, by your touch. That is, unless you have learned to control your touch and spared me. In which case, I am flattered-"

"Let's just leave." Warner has been in my presence for a total of ten minutes and he is already bordering on insufferable. A slight chuckle shakes his shoulders and he reaches for my hand again.

Adam is nowhere in sight outside my room. The only people there are part of the random amalgamation of ever-present soldiers. In the time that I've been here, they have toned down their stares from outright gawking, but still their eyes never leave my form. I keep my expression neutral and try to seem separate from Warner in mind, even though our hands bind us in being.

We enter the elevator, the small space bringing us a little closer than I prefer. Warner's hand leaves mine and finds my hip instead. I stiffen for a moment, but the movement only serves to bring me closer to his chest. Wishing I were smaller than ever, I take a deep breath and hope that he can't feel my heart beating through my skin.

Warner leads me by my waist to a large room. I head for a plush couch in the corner of the room and Warner drops immediately into a chair and crosses his legs.

"So," he says. "Let's talk."

I turn my head to make eye contact with him, but say nothing. I wait for Warner to make the first move. He hesitates, unsure of where to start.

He clears his throat.

"Tell me, Juliette, how does it usually feel when you touch someone?"

I am stunned. Stunned by his boldness, stunned by just how many answers there are to that one question, stunned by my sudden need to explain my most personal experience to a near stranger.

Warner misinterprets my surprise. He even blushes a little.

"My apologies, love. I was simply referring to the point you made about feeling differently when you touched me than when you touched Jenkins. That's all."

"Warner, I don't think I can-"

He begins again, with renewed determination, "Juliette, you can."

These words. These three words will be my undoing. They are the exact same words Adam said to me those three nights ago, about nearly the same topic. Despite Adam's betrayal, no matter his abrupt departure from my life, they are his words when they ring in my ears. It is Adam sitting in that chair. Adam, the best friend I ever had.

Before I can let my heart ache, Warner jumps in.

"Believe me, love, I know exactly how you feel. As much as you like to deny it, I know you better than anyone. I know how much you have struggled, Juliette. I know that you have faced this impossible impediment in your life with no one to understand what it's like. And, as much as it pains me to say, I will never be able to experience it and face it alongside you. But, Juliette, I can help you. So much more than you think I can. Just tell me."

Warner is ripping my heart out with his bare hands. He is watching it beat. He waits and he waits until it is nearing its last thrum and then he says he understands me and he says he cares for me and he touches my waist like no one ever has before. Then he leaves me to my own devices in a room for days. Why does he play with me?

The perfect mixture of pain, anger, and exhaustion finally come through. And I tell him everything.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: This chapter is mostly dialogue, but I think it came out well! I realized that when I used copy and paste to post this story the strikethroughs did not transfer, so I believe I have fixed the problem now. All the words that are meant to be strikethroughs are underlined and so far they have only occurred in chapters 1 and 3. Sorry for any confusion. Thanks for all your reviews! Enjoy.**

"You want to know how it feels, Warner? You really do? Fine. It feels amazing. It is the best feeling I've ever known. The massive rush of power and control, as life leaves my victims. If it weren't for my subconcious constantly filling me with guilt it would be my favorite thing. Warner, I _like_ to kill people! It's _pleasurable._ It's the best and worst thing I have ever known."

Warner stares at me, slips off his gloves and shoves them in his pockets. I collapse back on the couch, all the words that were holding me up have left me. Saying them has broken me.

"Now you've taken me in as some pity project. Some living tool that you can use whenever you please. You've lied to me-"

For the first time, Warner cuts me off, "Now that I cannot abide."

I know he's still watching my face, but I simply speak to the ceiling.

"What? You found out your monster is a little more than you bargained for? A little too monstrous for your tastes?"

Warner pinches the bridge of his nose. "Juliette, you are far from a monster. I just wish you would see that. But no, that's not what I meant. The thing that I cannot sit here and listen to is your insinuation that I am a liar. Like it or not, I have never lied to you. You walk around here and try to trip me up. Try to catch me in this or that trap, but it will never happen, Juliette. I have and will never lie to you. I wish you would afford me the same respect."

My ears perk up at this last comment. "I just told you everything there is to know about my power. Everything I have ever gained or lost to it. I kept back nothing. You, on the other hand, tell me the truth, but the only things you ever tell me are when to get dressed, what to eat, and what the day's goal is. You know my full name, my complete medical file and full police report, and even my bra size, though I don't want to know how. What do I know about you? You are a commander who's last name is Warner. You have blonde hair with green eyes. You are a massive control freak, and you are one of the only people I can touch."

Warner's eyes go blank and he straightens up suddenly.

"One of the only people….Juliette. Are there others who can touch you?"

I realize my mistake.

My brain rushes to fix it, but it's already too late. I hesitate too long, my eyes give me away, and my "No" might as well be a "Yes".

"Juliette, who else can you touch?"

"I don't know…" I mumble out a reply.

" _Juliette._ " Warner is nearly begging now. His chest rises and falls faster than I can count.

"If I tell you, you'll hurt him."

Even more recognition comes to Warner's face.

" _Him?_ It's a _him_?"

Damn it. Why do I even open my mouth? _Stop talking, Juliette._ I think this over and over in my mind, but it's already too late.

" _Kent?"_ Warner sounds disgusted and confused. Another feeling lies there that I cannot identify. _Heartbreak_ resonates in my mind, but that's not possible. It's Warner. I push the thought away to focus.

"No, no. _Warner._ " My voice is sickeningly pleading, "You cannot hurt him. Warner, promise me you won't hurt him." My words start to crack. The last is barely audible.

He ignores my words.

"Is that why he requested your case? Is that why he was so determined to have you under his care?"

More words leave my mouth before my mind can filter them, "No, it wasn't like that. We didn't know until….until…" I let my voice trail off, hoping that he doesn't hear that last word.

"Until when? Until you were on base? What, was it some sick experiment performed in secret?"

I run my hand across my face and sigh. I was just pointing out how little I know about Warner when he knows my entire life in and out, and now I'm about to spill all my Adam secrets as well. When will the universe stop using me as its punching bad?"

"Adam touched my skin while I was asleep. We were still in the cell and I didn't know about it until we came here."

Warner winces every time I use the word "we".

"So Kent is, what, a masochist?"

More anger fills me. "Don't do that, Warner. Don't you dare. Adam did nothing but try to help me get through this. I have been moved back and forth, place after place, abandoned by everyone I know. Then I am brought here. To hurt people. To do the one thing that I have spent my entire life trying to avoid. He supported me! Besides, you can't act like you weren't just as curious three days ago."

Warner decides to drop the argument.

"When did you find out that Kent could touch you?" He looks like he hates everything.

My mouth pops open at this question. No way. There is no way. That memory belongs between Adam and I, "No, that I'm keeping to myself."

Warner's fingers find his hair. "Fine. Is he the only other one?"

Glad to be back to other topics, I eagerly nod.

"What similarities could there possibly be between myself and _Kent_?" Warner ponders this for a moment, but comes up with nothing. He looks to me for answers.

"I can't think of anything either. Even the feeling of touching you and touching Adam is different."

Excitement flashes into Warner's face. "How so?"

"Well, when I touch Adam I don't feel much of a difference, but when I touch you there is almost a sensation of suction. It feels like my power is being drained."

He stands and begins pacing the floor. "But that doesn't make any sense. How could your power be draining if I'm unaffected? Wait….what was it you said that day?"

I think back, but the only thing I can remember saying to Warner is….

"'You took my power,'" we both say at once.

My eyes move from the ceiling to his face. I begin to rise from the couch.

"What did it feel like for you….when I touched you?"

"It was the best thing I have ever known. I felt like I was gaining all this strength."

"Warner?" He glances at me, nearly happy. He always reacts strangely when I say his name. "Is it possible that you…." I sigh, shake out my hands. My mind doesn't want the words to escape. I'm afraid it will make them real.

"Is it possible that you have a power, too?'

His eyes go wide. Simultaneous excitement and fear cloud his vision.

"I have a power?" A smile, a real smile, not one that is narcissistic or mocking, not even a dark one, suddenly lights up his face.

He rushes forward, his hands coming up into my hair to cup the back of my head without even a second thought.

"I have a power, love." Disbelief shines through his words.

"You're _happy_ about this?" The thing that has caused me nothing but pain my entire life actually brings him joy?

His answer stuns me. It is nothing close to what I imagined it would be.

"Now I can understand, Juliette. Now I can know. I can answer so many questions."

I don't have a chance to realize what he's saying. He pulls me in close. My hands come between us and awkwardly rest on his chest. Warner doesn't seem to mind and he snakes his arms around my waist, pulling me up. I feel myself spin around and my legs come to rest on the ground again.

In a blissfully guiltily dizzy moment, Warner leans forward and kisses my forehead. My mind hesitates to respond to him, but it is already too late for my body. My own small arms find his back. I can't comprehend his joy, but something in me cannot deny him this moment.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Things are about to get exciting! Until then, enjoy this chapter!**

Warner pulls away from the hug and I feel desperate to hold on grateful. Unwilling to let me go, he slings an arm around my shoulder.

"Well, I should really get you back to your room," Warner says, not moving an inch.

I nod and we head toward the door. I expect Warner to retract his arm as we near the hallway, but it doesn't move.

"Uh, Warner?"

He jumps, as if he were deep in thought.

"Yeah?" Warner sounds so informal, almost personal. It's sweet strange.

My eyes flicker to his bare arm on my exposed neck.

He mouths an 'oh' and reluctantly slips on one glove without removing his arm.

 _Not quite what I had in mind…_ I think to myself. And still, I can't bring myself to move from him.

Back in my room, I contemplate all my Warner revelations. Warner has a power. We just need to figure out what it is. Unfortunately, the only way to do that is to touch him. Adam has a power, too, but I've touched him many times and I'm no closer to figuring that out.

It feels like Warner is drawing my power. He could be like a power sponge. He could just absorb it. But Adam….I don't feel any differently when I touch Adam. Before I know it, my world is spinning.

I go to the bathroom to wash my face, hoping it will calm my nerves. After I splash my face, I decide to go through the drawers. My jaw drops as shade after shade of eye shadow and a million tubes of mascara appear. I've never used makeup before in my life, but suddenly I am tempted.

The back of the containers have instructions. How hard can it be? After three different types of creams, some pink for my cheeks and a splash of blue, I look back in the mirror. I look like a clown, of course, but I'm surprised to find that I like how the mascara opens my eyes and the lipstick color is very flattering.

Then there is a knock at my door. Adam's knock. A knock is a simple thing, but I would know Adam's anywhere.

Then he is in my room. And there's no hiding my face. He swings around the corner and into the bathroom. And bursts out laughing.

I immediately turn my back on him and reach for the sink.

"What do you want, Adam?"

He quickly stifles his giggles, "I'm sorry, Juliette."

"For what?"

I can almost feel his confusion. "For laughing. What else?"

I work my jaw. Just like Warner. "Nothing. Nevermind. So, what do you want?"

"Well, it's not me that wants it. Warner," he says his name like it's choking him, "he says there's been a change of plans for tonight."

"And what would that be?"

"Apparently, the Supreme Commander is paying an unexpected visit and you are the main entertainment."

I groan. This is just like Warner. he hugs me and then he goes right back to using me without even giving me a sign.

"Fine. So where do we go from here?" I finally look back at Adam, not caring what I look like anymore.

"I am to escort you to Warner's room. Apparently he has a whole store of outfits you can choose from for tonight."

Warner? _Warner_ has a collection of women's clothing in his room? For me? When did he think I would ever be in his room?

This day started out so well with Warner, a thought I never imagined I would have, and now it's falling apart at the seams.

"Just give me one moment, please?"

Adam nods, but stays put in the doorway.

"Um, I meant you should leave."

Adam's mouth hangs open for a moment. "Juliette, what's wrong? Why are you acting like that?"

My eyes narrow, challenging him to keep talking, "Acting like what?"

Adam is oblivious to the darts aimed in his direction. "You're so distant. You haven't stood this far from me since we got out of that cell."

I gape, incredulous. "You left me, Adam. I told you that I could touch Warner, a fact that terrifies me to my very core and has kept me up at night, and you walked away without even a word. You put this distance between us. Don't you act like it is my fault."

"You think this hasn't been a struggle for me, too? I thought I was the only one that could touch you. I thought we had that special bond."

"But, Adam, you aren't the one who has spent her entire life trying not to touch people when you desperately wanted to." So, _so_ desperately. "You are not the one that can only touch people she hates."

Adam's heart nearly breaks. His voice comes out as a whisper, all in one breath, "People she hates? Juliette, I love you. I thought you loved me, too."

My voice goes soft, but remains unforgiving. "If you loved me, why did you leave? I never would have left you."

Defensive, Adam says, "I left because I was in shock! I didn't think I could handle it."

I shake my head. "That's just it, Adam. You didn't think you could take it, so you walked away. This is my _life_ , Adam. It's my life. I can't just walk away from this. I have to learn to deal with it. I have to figure it out."

"I understand, Juliette. I get it, I swear."

"I know you do, Adam. But you aren't willing to stay. And that's why I am standing so far away from you right now. Until I know what is going on, we can't continue. You mean so much to me, but I need life to be as simple as it can be right now. So, if you could just give me a moment to wash up and then take me to Warner's…"

I let my voice trail off, but Adam takes a different meaning from my words.

"Is that what this is about. Are you falling for Warner? That psychopath?" His voice gets more and more desperate as he speaks.

My eyes go wide. "No! No, I do not care for Warner. You're not listening to me. I need things to be _simple._ How would falling for Warner simplify things?"

"Fine, fine. You're right. I'll just give you a minute." Adam walks away and the door slams shut behind him.

Before I have too much time to think about what just happened, I lean over the sink and desperately scrub my face until I'm down to a new layer of skin.

Dreading going back out to Adam, I leave the sink running. My hands run through me hair, pulling out loose strands. I pick at my fingernails, anything to keep myself from walking through the door.

Ultimately, I have no choice. I shut off the sink and face my fate.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: You have no idea how happy it makes me that you are all enjoying my work, even if it does piggyback on someone else's! Thank you all for your kind words and support. I know I write this same message before every chapter, but I don't want you all to forget it. Enjoy!**

Warner's closet is nearly larger than my room. There is rack after rack of suit coats, undershirts, pants, even his socks are distinctly organized. Two desks contain drawing pads with designs for new types of clothing and I wonder if Warner has a personal designer.

Adam directs me to the back of the closet. A gasp escapes my mouth. It's so beautiful. It's too much. At least ten floor-length gowns are hung from a rack, each is more extravagant than the last.

Adam is amazed, too. It takes him a moment, but eventually he retreats from the closet and I am alone.

Warner clearly wants to put me out of my comfort zone. The first dress shows more skin than anything I've ever owned. It is white and sheer with gold embellishments. The fabric falls the whole way to the floor, despite revealing the entirety of one's legs. The next is a deep black, strapless number slipping into ombre toward the bottom, fading into blue.

A rose red dress comes into focus. It is embellished with silver lace around the shoulders. It's perfect, but as I pull it on, I realize the entire back is exposed. It makes it elegant, lovely, but it is too much for me.

Finally, I come to the perfect one. It is another strapless dress with black, floral curls of lace over a cream background. The bottom flares out around my feet in a way that assures me I won't trip over it. I stand in front of a floor-to-ceiling mirror and admire the handiwork.

With a little of the stubborn mascara clinging to my lashes and the red lipstick I couldn't bring myself to remove, I look amazing. It takes my own breath away to see myself dressed in such lavish fabrics after a life of basic cotton. It makes me wonder how I ever managed to get here.

The fabric of the dress is heavy, but it blissfully covers everything but my shoulders. I am terrified to find out what shoes are intended to match this gown. Careful not to crinkle the dress, I bend down to the shelf under others. Each one has a matching pair of heels. The ones awaiting me are plain black, I assume because the dress will cover them. I slip them on reluctantly, trying not to tear any of the delicate lace with the heels.

Attached to the hanger I found the dress on is a pair of black lace gloves. The gloves are so delicate and fashionable that they seem innocent. They keep me from directly touching others, they keep everyone around me protected. Or so it seems. In reality, the lace is very thin and there are quite a few small places that no fabric contacts my skin. This is one of few moments that I have ever wanted to thank Warner. I know I would never take them off, but more and more lately I dislike being helpless.

I turn around in front of the mirror again, the girly part of my mind taking over for just a second. I turn around again and again, watching the fabric spill out around me. I start to laugh, little giggles at first followed by outright laughs from deep inside my stomach. It feels so good to let them out. It has been so long since I had any fun. Since anyone cared about me enough to allow me to have fun. It's been so long since anyone has trusted me. This whole experience has spoiled me. I could never go back to the way I used to live.

Warner is my biggest foe and he stresses me out like no one ever has before, but he also takes care of me, as much as I hate to admit it. Adam tried to provide for me, tried to care for me, but it's just so much easier for Warner. Perhaps that is because he hasn't seen at much of me as Adam has…

All these thoughts pass through my mind, but they don't deter me. I keep laughing for as long as I can, not sure when I will get the opportunity again.

Suddenly I hear someone clear their throat from the closet's doorway. _Adam_ is my first thought.

"Warner," is the reality. I quickly stop spinning, stumbling a little while I try to regain my equilibrium.

When my world finally stops rotating, I awkwardly bring my arms together, one hand on the opposite elbow, in front of my waist. The evening gown that I loved just a second ago suddenly feels tight and revealing, despite being the most modest thing I've worn yet.

Warner sports a perfectly tailored suit, like always, but something is different this time. The fabric fits just a little better around his shoulders than it has in the past. Maybe it's my imagination. _Please don't be my imagination._ Perhaps he has been working out more lately…. _Focus, Juliette!_

His eyes are soft and all his features are smiling at me. He laughs that silent laugh I've come to expect from him. I don't think I've ever heard him actually laugh. He's too subdued for that.

As Warner's eyes take in my dress, they go wider than I have ever seen them. When they reach my face, they are the size of dinner plates. I worry for a moment that I have done something wrong. Maybe the makeup wasn't meant for me. Maybe it was left over from whatever poor girl was trapped here before me.

 _Ow,_ I think to myself. _Why did that hurt me so much?_ Of course Warner has had other captives here. Why should I think I was the only one.

"Juliette," he says in that voice of his.

He stands there, frozen, for just a beat too long, taking me in.

He shakes his head and allows a larger smile to conquer his face. All my worries dissipate.

"Well," he says, trying to take back the control in this situation. "Shall we?"

I nod, then take one more look in the mirror behind me.

Warner offers his arm, but an irrepressible thought dominates my mind.

"Warner?" He turns back around, confused. For a second I wish I had left my mouth shut. Too late now. "What do you know hairdressing?"

His confusion remains, but Warner looks intrigued at the idea.

"Not much," he says, to my slight disappointment, "but I'll try anything once." His smile turns to a smirk. He offers his hand to me again and I take it. Warner tries to wrap his arm around my waist, as is his custom, but the dress doesn't allow him to get that close. I automatically wish that I had chosen a different one am thankful for the distance.

He leads me out of the closet and into another door adjacent to it. Inside, we find a bathroom much larger than my own with an enormous mirror and perfect lighting. You could perform entire photo shoots in this room.

Warner pulls open a giant, but thin drawer full of brushes, combs, scrunchies, pins and various other distinctly female hair products. I give Warner a dubious glance.

"The dresses I can justify, but Warner, you have an entire line of hair products for women. Care to explain?"

"I was researching you before you came on base, but I didn't _know_ you, you see. All I knew was that a teenage girl was arriving on my military base and I wanted you to be as comfortable as possible, with everything you might need available to you."

"But you stocked your room, not mine."

"Like I said, I knew nothing of you. I decided I would see the kind of person you are and adjust your room accordingly. You didn't request anything and you didn't use much of what was supplied. I assumed you were content. If you would like, we could move some of this to your room."

In an odd way, what Warner is telling me makes sense. He just wanted me to be comfortable and more under than overwhelmed. Seeing as how I fainted upon arrival, his decision was probably the smarter one. Regardless, it is still a little strange to me.

Warner senses that I am sufficiently placated and seats me on a bench in front of his mirror.

"So, love, what were you thinking of doing with your hair?"

Warner's hand comes up behind my hair, but he hesitates before putting it back down at his side. Unwelcome disappointment surges in my head.

"Well," I say, nervous again. "I really don't know." A blush rises to my cheeks.

"I could get a female maid to assist you-"

"No!" I say, a bit too eagerly. "I can figure it out."

I gingerly pick up a piece of hair near the front of my head and braid it in the same way my mom used to. I keep adding different pieces of hair until i reach the back of the right side. I pick up pins, but struggle to place them so they are hidden in my mass of brown hair.

Warner gentles my flailing hand and takes the pin, easing it into the braid so that it is hidden. To my surprise, my braid is completely secure. While I do the same to my left side, Warner turns on what I recognize to be a curling iron. It is newer than ones I remember, but the concept is the same.

Once it is heated to Warner's satisfaction, he picks up sections from the back of my head and curls them. It takes a long time, much longer than it took to braid the left side of my head, but soon I have a mass of bouncing curls cascading down my back. They look gorgeous, but they cover the intricate needlework on the fabric. Warner reads my mind and picks up a curl, lifting it so it coils like a spring, and pins it to the back of my head. He repeats this process until I have a neat little bun of twisted curls near the hairline on my neck. I try to help, but tend to do more damage than good.

"You told me you didn't know what you were doing." I tease Warner halfheartedly. Honestly, I am still in shock at his amazing work.

Warner just shrugs, but continues his sly smile. He produces a decorative comb with black, swirling flowers on it and gently places it into the top of the curls.

His hands come to rest on my shoulders.

He leans his lips down to my ear.

 _Oh, God._

"I was hoping you would pick that dress."

My smile cannot be contained, no matter how much I want it repressed. A mix between a gasp and a sign rock through me the moment he runs his hands back behind my neck. My back straightens up. I am ashamed at my response to him, but I simply cannot help it. His hands are so smooth, so soft. _So strong. All I want is for them to wrap themselves around me._

He steps away suddenly and my shoulders slouch forward. Clearly pleased with his effect on me, he beckons to me from the other side of the bathroom's threshold.

When I reach him, he leans in yet again. "The problem is I can't reach you."


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Sorry that it has been a few days, guys! I have soccer camp starting tomorrow, but it is only a few hours out of my day, so I will try not to let it inhibit my writing. Enjoy!**

Warner's hand holds mine as we make our way toward the dining hall. Suddenly, a thought piques my interest.

"Hey," I say softly. "The Supreme Commander is here. That's what Adam told me-" my voice cuts off for a second. "That's what I was told."

"Yes," Warner affirms my statement.

"Have you met him before?" I try not to seem as nervous as I feel, but it shows through my words.

Warner stiffens without warning.

"Yes. I have met the Supreme Commander." I was expecting this answer, but his tone implies some hidden meaning.

"How many times have you seen him?"

Now, Warner scoffs, almost snorts at my words.

"What?"

"Do you really not know, Juliette?"

We stop in the middle of the hallway, just out of earshot of the next guard.

"Even if I did know, how would I know what you are referring to?"

He sighs. "Juliette, the Supreme Commander is my father."

Surprise colors my features.

"Your father?"

"Of course. How many other nineteen-year-olds do you see running entire military bases of their own accord?"

Stupidly, I decide that joking is the way to go in this situation, "I went from living in near poverty to the comfort of a jail cell. I haven't really had to opportunity to bond with others my age."

"Right. Of course…" Warner trails off. We continue on our way.

The corners of Warner's mouth turn up. I have seen them do this exactly five times since we have left my room. He doesn't seem to notice he's doing it.

Curious, I try to puzzle it out. He doesn't seem amused by his father, so that must not be it. He isn't looking at me, so I cannot be the cause. No matter how much I want to be. He must be enjoying happy memories.

I am just about to leave it at that when I feel a slight tugging sensation. It isn't physical so much as internal. At the same time I notice this, Warner's mouth twitches again.

Realization hits me like a ton of bricks. _My power! He's drawing my power again!_ I look around me, trying to discern where the contact is being made.

Eventually, my eyes land on our linked hands. _The gloves!_ It's exactly what I was thinking earlier! My power is being transferred through the tiny holes in the lace.

I squeeze Warner's hand a little more and watch his eyelids flicker. I wonder what it feels like for him. Does he feel what I feel when I touch others?

All of the sudden I don't feel like going to this dinner anymore. I just want to understand him. I need to know why he is immune to me.

I shake the thoughts out of my head. I was never this interested in learning the secret with Adam. Why does Warner make me so curious? My time with Adam was always a rush. Running around, stealing moments. I suppose I never had much time to think with him.

Warner moves much more slowly. Equally as determined with much more purpose and poise. I have time to think around him, even if it is overwhelming.

My eyes flicker up to his face.

"So, what should I expect from tonight?"

Warner faces me as we enter the elevator.

"My father is a very serious man. You should answer him when he speaks to you. For your own sake, please refrain from asking him anything. He tends to be unpredictable. I may be his son, but you cannot speak to him as freely as you speak to me. You are not as valuable to him as you are to me, and he will not hesitate to…" Warner swallows, thinking hard about how he will finish his sentence, "dispose...of you."

I feel like all the air has left my lungs.

"Oh." I don't know what else to say. All my life I have lived in anticipation that I might be...disposed of. The more I think about it, the more frustrated I am with myself. Why, after all this time, would I ever think that I could be safe here?

Warner takes both my hands. All his focus is on me.

"Juliette, I would never let him harm you."

"You just said he wouldn't hesitate to-"

"I know what I said, love. Listen to what I am saying now." I stare into Warner's eyes, almost getting lost in the deep emeralds. "He wouldn't hesitate to hurt you, so please, _please_ , employ some self-preservation. I will protect you, but he will have soldiers of his own and they answer solely to him."

I nod, still terrified, but I decide to put my faith in Warner.

Warner's hand cups the back of my head, careful not to pull any of my curls loose, and he meets my eyes for a meaningful moment.

Too Soon the elevator opens and we walk down an elaborately decorated hallway to two enormous wooden double doors. Warner waits for a beat. Then he reaches out and pulls open the thick door and waves me forward.

"Ladies first."

I step forward, unsure. I desperately try to look confident, but my hands give me away. They immediately come together, awkwardly wrapping around each other.

My eyes go everywhere but where they should. I study the wallpaper, the carpet, the decorative chairs, but they avoid the Supreme Commander altogether.

"Juliette?" Warner says my name only loud enough to be heard by us. My head snaps toward him.

He offers his hand in the same way that he has done since I arrived here. I don't think I have made any trip with Warner that didn't involve some sort of physical contact.

I take his hand gratefully. I need something to hold on to in this moment.

He pulls me toward the huge table, but my eyes don't move from his face.

Warner stops behind a chair that's a little closer to his father than I would have liked. Mercifully, he positions himself between us.

The Supreme Commander sits at the head of the table with Warner at his right hand and myself at Warner's. My eyes remain glued to Warner.

A palpable silence surrounds us.

Suddenly, Warner clears his throat.

"Delalieu will be joining us shortly."

The Supreme jumps right into action.

"Son, why do you insist in keeping him employed?"

Warner's jaw clenches. _That didn't take long,_ I think to myself.

"Delalieu is a competent subordinate and he has proven himself trustworthy over the years."

"'Over the years,'" the Supreme scoffs. "You have barely been running this base for two years and you have had more failures than successes. Be glad you are my son, or you would be out of a job by now."

I am in shock at these words. I always knew the Supreme was ruthless, but with the first two sentences I ever heard him utter he has verbally abused his son in countless ways. For the first time, I can see Warner as a child, as a subordinate instead of as the man that wants to use me. Warner's face doesn't change, but I can feel a little more of the ice held in my heart melting for him.

More silence fills the void around us. I take the opportunity to glance around the room at the soldiers stationed at regular intervals. They are completely unmoving, almost like statues. Self-discipline is something I have practiced my whole life, but I cannot imagine standing that still for even one minute. I suppose the chance to work for the Supreme is a good motivator.

A man I assume to be Delalieu arrives just as I am scanning the soldiers for the third time. He takes the seat to the left of the Supreme a bit reluctantly. He respectfully addresses the Supreme, Warner and myself. Warner steps up to introduce us all.

"All right, let's get down to business. Juliette, this is Delalieu." The older man nods at me.

"Now that the introductions are out of the way, I have something of great importance to discuss with you, son. It involves your little girlfriend."

My head snaps up and I finally look out from under my lashes. I immediately regret it. The Supreme Commander is gorgeous. Warner's face is a direct copy of his. He has blonde hair cropped short in standard military fashion and his jawline is strong. It's so wrong. Everything about him is wrong. He is a terrible person who has aided in destroying the world as we know just so he can wield power. And yet he is one of the most beautiful humans I have ever seen. Nature is a cruel thing. The only thing Warner doesn't share with his father are his green eyes. In a strange way, I am glad that Warner has something that is distinctly his.

"She has a name," Warner informs his father.

"Fine." The Commander says curtly. "My business involves _Juliette._ " The way he says my name is nothing like the way his son does. He turns the syllables into a snarl. I want to take my name back from his lips, from his mind. At first I was glad that Warner corrected him, but now I wish he would call me by anything but my name.

"She has been here for several weeks on the pretense that she is to torture war criminals, vagabonds and defectors. So far the only person she has harmed happens to be one of your own soldiers on your own orders." I straighten up, but Warner appears unaffected. When Warner came to the asylum, he spoke of a trade, my damaging ability for a life I never could have imagined. To harm in exchange for humane treatment. Since then he has marvelled at my skill and hoped that we could someday conquer the world together, but there has been no talk of torturing anyone.

My whole world feels like it is on the edge of collapse, knowing that this might still be part of the deal.

"We have realized that she is of more use in other ways."

"Other ways?" My heart sinks at the thought that Warner might still intend to use me. The Supreme continues, "And what are these 'other ways', son? Taking up space? Consuming food that should be contributing to the war effort?"

Warner ignores his rhetorical questions.

"Juliette has a brilliant mind and a useful skill."

"Ha." The Supreme Commander snorts derisively. "What is the brilliant mind of one girl compared to an entire army of expertly trained soldiers at my beck and call? She was in an asylum for a reason. She committed murder. Perhaps I should kill her for her crimes right now."

The Supreme instills fear in my heart. Not though this words, but through his lack of compassion and his complete disregard for human life.

"And in killing her, what would be accomplished? Eliminating a completely unpredictable and incalculable amount of power?"

"Exactly!" His father shoots back. "She is unpredictable! She could assist us in defeating our enemies," he concedes this point. "But she could also take the time to learn our tactics and plans and run straight to the enemy." He leans back in his chair, relaxing from his sudden outburst. He takes a sip from a cup in his hand, "Or, more likely, she will accomplish nothing at all. She will remain here at your request and live out her natural life, not even capable of fighting her own battles."

Warner opens his mouth, but the Supreme doesn't allow him to speak. "You know that I am right, son. Look at her," All sets of eyes lock onto me. I am certain I look like a deer caught in headlights, but am incapable of doing anything about it.

"I have just spent the last ten minutes insulting her power, essentially calling her useless, but has she tried to prove me wrong? Has she so much as spoken a single word? No. She sat there, all this time, unable to take her eyes off of you, letting you speak in her defense."

Further proving the Supreme's point, my eyes find Warner's, watching his face contort, simultaneously he begs me to do something and nothing to stop this barrage. I simply stare back.

"I will give you just a little while longer to find your sense and fix this. If you do not, then I will fix it myself."


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: I really thought soccer camp wouldn't interfere with my writing. I was wrong. I am so sorry for leaving you all in suspense like this! Next week I have band camp, but it is much less intense than soccer camp, so, hopefully, I won't let you all down again. Thanks for reading, and, as always, enjoy!**

The rest of dinner is spent in silence. I make eye contact with no one, my eyes barely leave my plate. My appetite is nonexistent and I simply pick through the food that the rest of the table inhales. At some point, musicians make their presence known and begin playing the most beautiful music I have ever heard.

There is something about live music on real instruments. It is so pure, there is such a true connection between man and melody. To watch the players lean into their instruments as they play, both supporting and being supported by the music, is hypnotizing.

It is hard to get lost in the tune, though. No matter how many times I will my muscles to remain still, I shift and flinch every time the Supreme Commander moves. He snaps his fingers at a maid to demand a second helping and I jump so high I fear my head might get stuck in the chandelier.

Eventually, blessedly, Warner decides to save me from my perpetual state of anxiety.

"Juliette?" He says softly, careful not to startle me. "Would you like to dance?"

I stand so quickly that I nearly upend a cup of some dark liquid. A blush rises to my face when I realize how Warner will interpret my eagerness, but I remember that it is his father I need to fear. He releases a derisive snort in our direction. My eyes flicker treasonously toward the Supreme Commander, but Warner doesn't seem to hear him.

I put my hand in Warner's and allow him to lead me toward the middle of the large room. My shoulders relax with the space between myself and the table. I would go to the moon if it could keep me from Warner's father, however this will have to do.

We stop; a flash of fear reminds me that I have no idea how to dance. Warner doesn't allow me the chance to prove my incognizance. He leads the hand he is holding to his shoulder and grasps the other in his. Slowly, he steps, slides, and turns to the beat of the flowing music. Mercifully, he leads perfectly accurately and it is impossible for me to fall behind.

When I finally fall into the pattern of the dance, I look up from my feet. Slowly, I take in the entirety of our simply entwined forms. I relax my hand from the terrified grasp it had on his to a hold and slide the other closer to his neck. Warner changes his positioning as well. His hand slips from my ribs into the curve of my waist. I inhale. I gasp. I shudder. So many things happen in my mind at once.

His hand moves further and finds the small of my back, forcing me to compensate by moving mine as well. _Bold,_ I think to myself. Though, when has Warner been anything else?

I allow my eyes to find his face and notice his have found mine. _That was a mistake. That was a mistake. That was a mistake._ Please do it again.

In one blink, my vision redirects over his shoulder. I can feel his burning a path across my features.

The sight of Adam shocks me like a bolt of electricity passing through my heart. He is standing at attention, the picture of a perfect soldier, but his jaw is rigid and his hands are more tense than I have ever seen them. I try to rationalize this. I suppose it isn't every soldier that is allowed in the presence of the Supreme...

Then he meets my eyes and I know his pain has nothing to do with the Supreme.

With one twirl, he has left my line of vision.

We continue to dip and spin across the floor. I begin to enjoy the monotony after a while. There are no surprises lying in this dance, nothing I have to anticipate. I adjust to the soldiers' eyes, and, most surprisingly, I actually relax.

I dare to close my eyes. Without sight, my other senses heighten. I can still feel Warner staring at my face, but I don't care. This dinner has only served to reveal my true enemies, the people that I truly need to fear. Warner may want to use my powers to punish, but he respects human life. I release these thoughts and take in the simplicity of the music. My feet still hit their marks, and the world keeps spinning.

And then it stops.

There is a tap on my shoulder.

"Mind if I cut in?"

 _No, no, no, no._

My eyes snap open; find Warner. We have stopped moving, but our hands are still intertwined, we are still keeping each other close.

Warner, with jaw clenched, passes my hand to his father, but it is up to me hold on, to remain upright, to keep myself sane. I am stuck between a rock and a hard place. If I recoil, I can't be sure what the Supreme will do. The same is true if I cooperate.

Never taking his eyes from me, Warner returns to the table. The Supreme takes the lead, just as Warner had. _This is sick, this is so sick._ Horrifyingly, it is almost as if there is a rubber band connecting Warner and myself. I feel a pull in my chest. It only strengthens when he distances himself from me.

I can't focus on anything. I notice banners cascading down the walls, I study the Supreme's lapel, I consider collapsing.

"So, Juliette, tell me about this power of yours."

My face contorts. I silently beg the universe to release me from this nightmare.

"I-I...can kill people with one touch." My voice is barely audible. This may just be the worst part of my existence. I guilt is hard, I struggle with the memories, but admitting my power, admitting what I have done and watching the disgust flash across face after face is what kills me inside.

But the Supreme isn't disgusted. He is disbelieving. Uncaring.

"I'm sorry," He says, his voice condescending. "What was that?"

 _He doesn't believe me_ , I think. He has seen all my files, he granted his son permission to bring me here, and yet he does not believe a word I am saying. All his bold statements, all his threats were made because he does not believe that I am anything other than a teenage girl. He wants to kill me. He can't wait to do it.

A sudden, uncontrollable rage flares in me. A vision flashes through my mind of slamming him into the floor, breaking the fine marbling there. I picture touching him and not relenting.

I look up and meet his eyes. "My. touch. kills. people."

I must look ridiculous. Because he breaks into laughter. Stomach-busting, shoulder-shaking laughter. The Supreme nearly doubles over.

My anger subsides, melts into shock. In all my life I never would have imagined a sight like this. Somewhere, deep in my mind, is still raging in incredulity at his disbelief, but the rest is too overcome to pay it any mind.

The laughter ends and our dance picks back up.

The Supreme wipes tears from his eyes. "Well, Juliette, I have to say, I am no stranger to death. You are no killer. You are a misled girl, nothing more."

I hear the challenge in his words and accept it.

"You say that like it is a bad thing."

"You will not survive. You are weak." The Supreme leans in nauseatingly close. "Prove your worth. Or you won't be long for this world, my dear."

The Supreme strides away, summoning his men to follow. I see pieces of Warner in everything the Supreme does. I can't help but notice just how similar he is to his son. Or, rather, just how much Warner takes after his father.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Woohoo! New chapter! I am really excited about this one and I hope that you are too. It's a little more rushed than I would have wanted it, but writing it just made me so excited! I have tons of ideas for Chapter 10! Enjoy!**

We don't linger long after the Supreme leaves.

Warner guides me back to my room. With his father's threats ringing in my ears, I can't bring myself to be affected by his closeness.

Warner is quiet, but not shaken. He almost seem triumphant and certainly more relaxed.

 _Why is he so content? How do these meetings normally go?_

Warner unlocks my door and looks me up and down one last time. With a smirk, he turns and the door closes behind him.

I stay standing there, just for a moment, allowing all the night's events to line up in my mind. Eventually I turn and kick off my shoes. My toes are glad for the release and they curl themselves gratefully in the carpeting.

I unzip my dress and peel off my gloves, pull the pins from my hair and shake out all the curls. I leave all this lay where it falls. Glad that Warner removed the cameras from my room, I walk around nearly naked. I twirl and spin and dance, allowing all the stressful events to be hidden under the freedom of this movement. It is a childish act, but one that I need.

I am free of Warner's dresses, free of the cotton that reminded me of my cell, free from everything but myself.

The moment fades and I hurry to get dressed, suddenly paranoid that someone will come to the door. Knocking isn't a common tendency around here.

I open a dresser drawer that is brimming with pajamas. The options are almost overwhelming. An assortment of pants stares at me. Sweatpants lie in one corner, silks in another.

I pick up an inconspicuous pair of gray cotton shorts and a loose blue t-shirt. I laugh a little at myself when the shirt hangs below my shorts. I examine my hair, long and flowing. The curls still ripple through. I pull a thick strand over my shoulder, wondering how it would look short. I stroke it softly. It has been my security blanket for years. I would feel exposed without it.

Finally, I sink beneath the sheets on my bed. Hard as I try, the fear starts to creep.

" _Prove your worth. Or you won't be long for this world…"_

The words bounce around my head, building my fear to an unbearable level. I lower myself further, hiding in the fold of the sheets, hoping to make it all go away.

The fear exhausts me. I fill my mind with happier things. Memories of pancakes and kickball games. My happy moments with Adam shine brightly in my mind. We had so much planned. He was going to help me leave. He was going to protect me from Warner. From everyone. He was going to help me through this world.

I wonder what will happen now. What happens to all those plans? Does Adam go back to being the perfect soldier? Do I become putty in Warner's capablehands? Do we stop loving each other?

I squeeze my eyes shut. I cannot deal with all this right now. _One thing at a time. One thing at a time._ The Supreme. He wants me to show him my power. _Do whatever it takes, Juliette. Keep yourself alive._

I am finally calming down when I hear soft knocks on the door.

I jump out of bed, standing awkwardly beside the bed post. Such a long pause overtakes the room that I begin to doubt that I even heard them. Surely whoever knocked would have entered by now? No one on this base waits for me…

Unless…

 _Adam._

Yes, Adam! No, no, need to talk. We need to discuss our situation. I need to distance myself. I need to take things into my own hands.

I glance at the clock. It reads 10:32. I wonder what this means. Naturally, most people would be asleep right now. I don't remember much from normal life, but I know this much. But, we are on a military base. There must be some patrols right now. Even so, this would be the best time for someone to sneak to my room.

Adam is assigned to me. He wouldn't need to sneak around to see me.

The more I try to rationalize this, the more I confuse myself.

10:35.

Three minutes have passed in which I have held this same stance. No more knocks.

I sit on the edge of the bed, prepared to swing my legs back under the comforter. One hand pulls my hair up to keep myself from lying on it and the other lifts the edge of the blanket. My legs pull themselves up-

"Love?"

I freeze. Ice runs through my veins. The voice came from the other side of the door, slipping through the cracks just to find my eardrums and fluster me completely.

My hands are paused in their tasks, my legs hanging just inches from the ground. Warner wants to talk to me. In my room. At 10:36 at night.

I stay quiet. _Maybe he will leave. Maybe he will think I am sleeping._

Soon, I hear the retreating footsteps. My body relaxes. I reach for the glass of water at my bedside, suddenly feeling parched.

Then, as if in slow motion, three things happen at once.

The glass slips from my hands and crashes to the floor.

The footsteps in the hall go quiet.

My heart stops.

Five painful seconds pass.

Then,

"Juliette?"

My eyes fall closed and my hands bunch in the sheets.

This is how Warner finds me seconds later when the door slides open.

I imagine Warner taking in the scene; his eyes fluttering over the shards of glass, over the spreading water, over my tense figure.

He sighs and summons someone to clean up the mess.

Neither of us move, my eyes don't open.

I cannot imagine what the servant must think of us.

Then we are alone.

Warner makes his way over to the bed. I can feel the shift in the mattress when he sits just inches from me. His hand cups my chin and turns my face sideways to face his own.

"Open your eyes."

I rebel just a second longer. My eyes meet his just as they have a million times before. God, his eyes. They shine like beacons through the night.I stare at him from under my lashes, unsure of how to proceed.

Tentatively, Warner's hands rest on my arms, rubbing the tension from them.

"I'm sorry about tonight, Juliette."

I don't react, I just focus on Warner's eyes.

"It wasn't fair for me to expose you to my father like that."

My eyes redirect to my lap where my hands are furiously tangling themselves.

"He wanted to meet you and I thought having you there would make things easier."

He sounds so sincere, so different from the condescending person I had know for weeks after arriving here.

"Juliette, I'm sorry. Please respond to me."

My mind doesn't know what to make of this moment. Simultaneously, I nod and shake my head, producing an awkward twist and ending with an exhausted shrug.

"Why didn't you answer the door?"

This. This I can answer. This is simple. This I can do.

"It's been a long day, Warner." Hoping he will see what my answer is implying, I leave it at that.

Warner ignores my suggestion, "Were you afraid of who it would be?"

Finding myself in a mirror on the wall. I watch our reflection. Warner's profile is striking. He is still watching my face.

"There are many people to fear," I tell my reflection.

"I will keep you safe, Juliette."

There is nothing to say. I have no words. Luckily, I don't need any.

Warner pulls back, takes in my attire and laughs. His eyes widen a little when he sees my legs. I pull up on the bottom of the t-shirt, wanting to assure him that I am wearing pants. I know I am blushing, but I laugh a little as well.

Then, Warner says something surprising, "I was wondering where that shirt went."

My mouth forms a little "o".

"S-sorry." I stutter. "It was in my closet and I-"

Warner holds up a hand between us. "Shh, love, it's fine." He scans my body again. "It looks better on you anyway."

We smile softly at each other. Warner slowly starts to lean into me. My heart starts to pound. My breath hitches in my throat.

He gets closer, closer, closer. He is Warner. Then, suddenly, he isn't anymore. That jawline, that hair, his suit. Fear runs into the pit of my stomach. My shadow covers his eyes, the green dissipates into the air and that is the last straw.

"No!"

I push him back. My chest heaves and my sight blurs.

"Juliette? Juliette! What's wrong?" My head snaps to the side, the fear apparent in my eyes.

And Warner is back, his features are back to themselves again. I place my hand on my chest, feeling it rise and fall and try to slow my pounding heart.

"Oh," I say, all the air rushing out. "N-nothing. It's just…"

His eyes beg for answers.

"Well, you are just so much like your father."

Warner stiffens, looking more hurt than I have ever seen him. My brain processes what I have just said and hurries to compensate.

"No, Warner, no. That isn't what I meant." He has turned away now. I'm not even sure if he is listening. "You just look so much like him…"

Warner is clenching and unclenching his fists, running his hand repeatedly through his hair. His feelings are at war. He walks to the door.

He turns around. His expression is grave.

"I am nothing like my father."

I rush forward and grasp both his hands, but they don't respond to mine.

"I know that Warner, I swear-" He starts to turn again, not believing me.

"Warner," I say, trying to sound strong. "I know."

A beat passes in which I have no clue what will happen. I have no idea how this night will proceed. I have no idea if I have just given up the last thread of protection I have. He gives in to my apologies and grips my hands.

"Juliette, every time I look in that mirror I see him. I don't see myself, I see my father and I see failure." My heart breaks just a little.

"I guess I was hoping that you would be the one to see me," he finishes.

Now I am definitely falling apart. My brains are mush, my tongue is flopping somewhere in the corner, my legs are just sticks.

"I do. I do. Tonight was just such a shock, but that is no excuse. I'm sorry."

He pulls back, unsure what to do. He is scared. Scared that I might hurt him again, but scared that I will pull away. I have said all that I can say. All there is to do is wait for the end of his inner turmoil. And hope.

Warner snakes his hand up to the back of my neck. He leans down again, slowly this time. The light stays in his eyes and he is Warner through and through. I still can't place my feelings for him, but I cannot hurt him. Just lightly, he touches his lips to mine. Our eyes never part.

I think of how far we have come in this one day and I wonder what the Hell I am doing. My emotions are exhausted. Warner took them for a ride this morning- how can it only have been a few hours ago?- when he demanded all my secrets. Adam tore open my stitches before dinner and Warner patched them back up when he arrived just minutes later. The Supreme scared the life out of me and now I am kissing his son. Life has a funny way of messing with your mind.

My feelings gather up their strength for one more moment before Warner pulls away. Then I fall asleep before I can reach the bed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Ahh! It has been a week! Oops. Ok, so as I said, I had band camp which was 5-6 hours every day. I hope you all can forgive me! I'm not sure how you will all feel about this chapter, but I am pretty proud. There is a little swearing, so beware. Also, I realized that all my chapters lately have taken place in the night, so I promise that the next one will be daylight!**

I come back to awareness again. Four in the morning. The light filtering in has a calming affect on me. Now is that special time where you feel at one with the world. I could be the only one in existence. The time feels like a special dance between nature and myself. It is almost like a secret between the universe and I while everyone else sleeps. This is the time before a day feels like a day.

Another knock breaks through the silence.

 _Again?_

I look around the room and my memories from just hours before come rushing back. Warner must have left after I collapsed on the bed…

Warner was in my room last night.

 _Warner kissed me._ And I let him.

The memories clog my brain and cloud my vision. I am overwhelmed. I was tired, I didn't know what I was doing. It will never happen again and that is all that matters.

I roll over and sigh, hoping to shove out all the confusion. Hoping to clear out the feelings.

I snap my head up. Right. The knock.

Everything looks fuzzy around the edges as I stand. I rub the sleep from my eyes and wait for the door to open.

I hear the sharp metallic click as the door slides out of place. I should really get a schedule of this place. Who could possibly be up at four in the morning?

A lean figure steps through the door. I am about to ask Warner what on earth he is doing here, but instead I am punched by reality. This person is dark. Too dark. Warner's blonde hair stands out against the night, always. Adam's does not.

"Adam?" My mouth forms the word, but I'm not sure I hear it.

He had been scanning the room, clearly assuming I would be in bed. Now he finds me in the corner of the room.

"Why are you awake?" The look on his face almost makes me laugh.

"Why are you in my room?"

Now he laughs, "Fair enough."

He settles on my bed and looks at me expectantly, but I don't move one muscle.

Adam sighs and his face turns serious. "We need to talk."

I swallow. Shift my weight. "About what."

"We had plans, Juliette. We had a vision. I was going to take you away from here. We were going to be together. Now we aren't speaking and I can feel you changing."

"Changing? Adam, I'm the same person I have always been."

"You put on makeup last night. You wore a dress. You are spending more time than ever with Warner."

I am disgusted. How can he be so blind? How can he not see?

"I was just having fun with the makeup, Adam. I have been so stressed out since I arrived here. Am I not allowed to stop thinking about things for two seconds? I feel the same about the dress. I have been denied proper clothing for far too long. It makes me feel human. Normal. Besides, do you really want a repeat of the last time I turned down a dress?" This makes him flinch. Pity wells in my stomach, but it needed to be said. He needs to understand my life. "And then there's Warner. That's that part you hate most, right? But despite his crazy, Warner has really….helped me."

Adam snorts. "Yeah, I can imagine."

My frustration has reached an all time high.

"Damn it, Adam. This isn't about what you think it is about. This is about Warner having power. Money. Warner has everything at his disposal, therefore it is subsequently at mine. I need what he can offer to figure out my power. Adam, this is the biggest mystery of my entire life. I will be trapped with this forever. I at least deserve to understand it."

Adam crumbles. "But do you have to be around him?" He is nearly begging.

"Juliette, I hate the thought of you being near him. I hate it. He is the most evil person I have ever met. Warner has no scruples. You haven't seen him around his soldiers. You don't know, Juliette."

My heart breaks in my chest. All the feeling runs out of my body and all I want to do is lay down.

"I can touch him, Adam." He almost doubles over. Maybe that wasn't the best way to begin. I try again, "I can't just leave. I have to know. I have to. There is no more running. You tell me that he is terrible to his men, but he has never laid a harmful finger on me. That is all I know."

"He had his soldiers beat you! You were abused in that asylum! How can you defend him?"

"Soldiers beat me. Warner never did," I pause. "Remember, Adam. You are a soldier. You hurt me just as much."

He is dumbfounded. "I was trying to help you!"

"Do you think I knew that then? Adam, all I am saying is that you know the way Warner behaves around soldiers. I know how he acts around me. Our world is a messed up place that produces nothing but messed up people. We have all struggled. I just need to see things through here."

Adam makes one last attempt. "And what about the Supreme? I saw the way he was speaking to you and I know he wasn't inviting you to tea. You aren't safe around him."

This trips me up. Adam's words bring back all my fears.

"I will figure it out."

"Just come with me, Juliette."

"I'm staying. I am sorry, but for once in my life I need something to be about me. I have done endless things for other people and I don't regret it, but I need to start doing things for myself. This needs to be about the strength that I fight my own battles with. Not the speed in which I run from them."

"Right," is all that Adam says.

"I'll still see you around. You are still my soldier, after all." This is wrong. It is all wrong. It isn't right to call Adam "my" anything anymore. Everything is silent for a moment. Then, "I will see you around, right?"

Adam clamps his lips shut and turns away.

"Juliette, you may have changed your mind, but mine has always been the same. I cannot be here."

And this is the moment that it all comes crashing down. This. This has to be it. This has to be the end because I have lived too long, felt too much and felt nothing at all. My heart has broken one time too many. My nine lives are spent.

Adam is leaving. I have to decide. Right now. There is a decision to be made about whether I will stay with Warner, against my heart and my better judgement, or whether I will leave with Adam, against my curiosity and out of my comfort zone.

He steps forward and envelopes me in a hug, every part of him touching every part of myself.

"When?" I whisper.

"What?"

I push back against Adam's biceps. We ferociously make eye contact.

"When?"

He swallows. "Three days."

Three days. Three days. Three days are all I have left with my first love. My savior. My Adam.

All the feelings that I tried to push away, tried to make less confusing, come rushing back and I can't handle this life.

I have two options. I could stay, comforted by Warner's insane certainty, or I could go, wrapped in Adam's warm mystery.

"Reconsidering?" Adam asks, completely serious.

Then I steel myself. I stand straight up build my own backbone. I will no longer be a puppet and I will no longer fearfully follow instructions. From here on out, I will have control of my life. I make all these decisions and then I do the hardest thing I have ever had to.

"No."

And I step back.

For a moment I feel my bird flying away without me. I feel it separating from my being until it snaps back to my chest, feeling more permanently mine than ever before.

I part with Adam and I never look back.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: This last week was my first week of school! I can't believe I'm back already! Anyway, I hope you all like this chapter! When I was reading it it felt a little rushed. If you guys feel the same way I can go back and do some editing. On a side note: how was my French? I have French III, but I'm a little rusty. Enjoy!**

 **Sleep evades me for the rest of the night. Somewhere around 5:30 I fall into a chair by the window and watch the sunrise over the compounds.**

 **I've been dressed for the day for half an hour and, having exhausted all my other resources, have been pondering the moving clouds ever since. Sometimes I wonder if they can see. Eternally floating across the sky, what do they think of the humans that lay on their backs in the grass to find their shapes? Do they love the couples that kiss under their downpour?**

 **Today I have opted for jeans that I believe Warner has referred to as high-waisted and a soft t-shirt, hoping no one will come by. Warner's kiss is always on my mind, but it is drowned by my worry for Adam.**

 **I** **don't want to** **can't leave with Adam, but at least then I could keep him safe…**

 **Will I ever see him again? Where will he go? How will he escape?**

 **These questions plague me, but I have other problems to contend with.**

 ** _Warner._** **All my issues bear his name. I need Warner to test my power. I need Warner to keep me from his father. I need Warner's kiss to stop replaying in my head. Exhaustion didn't make time for my feelings last night, but in the light of day they are forcing themselves back to the surface.**

 **I begin to sort information in my head.**

 **The kiss was amazing.**

 **The kiss was the sleep-deprivation fueled result of a near-comatose state.**

 **Warner is not his father.**

 **Warner looks like his father.**

 **Warner has tried help me.**

 **Warner forced me to touch an innocent human being.**

 **"** **Ugh!" My hands the muscles in my face. Why can't the world be black and white? Why doesn't Warner just leave me and my demons in peace?**

 **6:00, 6:30, 8:00.**

 **I feel like I have wasted so much time. Two hours of my life spent being entirely unproductive and repeating the same questions to myself over and over.**

 **Then again, nothing is more deterring than 264 days of solitary confinement.**

 **Finally, when the clock is nearing 9:00, the door clicks open, sending me flying from my chair.**

 **A soldier I don't recognize stands before me, a cold look in his eyes.**

 **"** **Juliette Ferrars? Warner requests your presence at brunch. Please follow me."**

 **The man walks briskly, his legs nearly twice the length of mine, and I have to run to keep up. I barely recognize the path to the room Warner and I spent yesterday morning in. He thrusts the door open and falls into a stiff salute for Warner as I tentatively enter.**

 **Warner is sitting at a table surrounded by food and papers. His face lights up when he sees me. I sometimes wonder how it can make him so happy to see me. What must life on base have been like before I was under Warner's care?**

 **"** **Ahh, bonjour, mon amour!"**

 **He waves a hand to dismiss the man as I struggle to understand his words.**

 **"** **Bon-what?" I ask, sure that I sound uneducated.**

 **Warner laughs, "Bonjour. It means 'hello' in French."**

 **"** **French?" It's a vaguely familiar word, but it doesn't take root in my mind.**

 **"** **It's another language, love."**

 **For the umpteenth time, Warner's information catches me off guard. I have only ever known English. The only people I have ever known were English-speaking. Was it foolish of me to think it was the only way people communicate in this world?**

 **"** **There are other languages?"**

 **"** **Hundreds."**

 **My chest tightens, but my mind begs to know more.** ** _Other languages!_** **How large can the world be that we have so many ways to communicate?**

 **I have the sudden urge to travel. I know the numbers, I know how many sectors there are and how many Supreme Commanders exist, but I never gave thought to the amount of space all of this would take up. The only world I have ever known is this inside of a building.**

 **"** **Why? Why didn't I know this?"**

 **Warner's face darkens, "My father- actually, the Reestablishment as a whole- wish to get rid of all current language and unite us with one of numbers."**

 **A memory flashes through my mind of Adam telling me the same information weeks ago in my cell. Lost in my mess of a life, I had forgotten.**

 **"** **But all that literature? All the understanding?"**

 **My captors words come stiff and hard from his lips.**

 **"** **Being disposed of as we speak."**

 **The weight of the universe crashes onto my chest. Years of writing from authors, scientists, historians gone just because our government doesn't see that value in the simple pleasures anymore.**

 **A sense of urgency sends me flying to the chair next to Warner, one I never would have chosen otherwise.**

 **"** **We have to stop them!"**

 **"** **Since they began burning books I have been collecting as many as possible, but it's a little difficult to-"**

 **"** **Teach me." I say.**

 **Warner stills his hands, the pen falls from his hands. His eyes flash to my face.**

 **"** **What?"**

 **"** **Teach me French. Teach me all the languages." My hand flies out to the fabric on his suit coat. He stays perfectly still; his incredulous glance at our connection the onIy movement. I am practically begging, refusing to let this purely human quality go to waste.**

 **Warner laughs again, but smiles fondly. "I don't know them all myself, love."**

 **He seems tranquil, calm, almost, acting in stark contrast to the way I feel. I cannot be deterred, "Then let's start with what you do know." I scramble for a pen and a clean sheet of paper.**

 **"** **What did you say to me when I walked in?"**

 **"** **Bonjour, mon amour!" He says the words quickly at first, but slows down when he notices my blank stare. I look down at the paper and begin to write.**

 **"** **And what does that mean?" I ask when I have set up my page for note-taking.**

 **Writing these words is almost comforting. Despite the horrid memories of my years in grade school, I am ushered back to a simpler time. I was never an excellent student, and certainly not very popular, but learning was an escape from the taunting and the fear. And yet this is so different. The more affluent of my peers are probably sitting in the exact same spot they were when I left, copying down the same information year after year while I am being taught French by the most powerful person in our Sector: a boy with dimples that would make any girl wish she were an abomination.**

 **"** **Juliette," Warner redirects my focus. "Give me that paper."**

 **Defensively, I clutch it to my chest. "What? Why?"**

 **"** **You are butchering the French language, just let me do it."**

 **Minutes, hours, days pass, I can't really tell. Warner patiently writes phrase after phrase in a notebook for me, teaching them all to me. He abandons all his other work, leaving it scattered about, and writes feverishly.**

 **With each new expression learned my heartbeat slows a little more, my mind is a little more content. I finally have something the Reestablishment can't take from me.**

 **I have seen Warner work before, but none of that compares to now. He works tirelessly to teach me this nearly lost language. If there were once moment where I could separate Warner from his line of work, from all his horrid actions, it would be this moment, right now.**

All good things must come to an end, however, and shortly after an emaciated maid rolls more food through the doorway, Warner takes the notepad and pen and puts them to the side.

He meets my eyes.

"I'm sorry to cut this lesson short, but I believe there is an elephant in the room we need to discuss."

Oh.

God.

The kiss.

I am not ready to talk about this. Not now. Not until Adam is gone and things are settled and my own being is no longer a mystery to me.

I try to open my mouth, try to bite the bullet, but Warner beats me to the punch.

And he says exactly what I wasn't expecting.

"There has been a lot of talk, love, but not a lot of action. We still need to run some tests of your power."

Quickly, my mind reroutes, celebrating the avoidance of an awkward moment, but falling to its knees at his actual words.

"T-tests?"

Warner sighs, "Juliette, I do have a job to do here. Certainly by now you've realized that I am keeping you here as more than just a torture device."

He looks almost surprised at my own surprise. _He's not keeping me here to abuse people? What about everything he said about the war..?_

"Oh, love. Haven't you realized how little you have done since your arrival? We have at least twenty-five prisoners that come through the base everyday. We aren't exactly treating them to tea."

"Twenty-five? _A day?"_

Warner can hear the derision in my tone and I don't care. Everyone in the compounds is starving. Everyone steals to provide for their family. No one likes the Reestablishment. We were promised a better existence by a system that is tearing us apart. People are more beaten down than ever and the world is broken.

"There is much you don't know about the world, Juliette," Warner warns. As much as I want to yell, want to scream, want to argue, I let the conversation rest.

"So," he says, "tests."

We stand and leave the room. On our way out, I grasp as much food as I can, desperate to not let it go to waste. Warner makes his way back towards his room with me in tow. A blush creeps onto my cheeks. My last visit to this room was with a much different person.

Without a word, Warner disappears into his closet and produces a pair of shorts I never would have chosen for myself and a small tank top.

"Put these on."

"No way."

Already exasperated, he tries again. "Do you know how many exceptions I have made for you, Juliette? Put them on, please."

"I'll be practically naked, Warner!"

This earns me a glance that has me wishing I hadn't said anything at all.

"What can I do to get you to acquiesce?"

"Let me wear actual clothing."

"We're running tests that require physical contact, Juliette."

"Sweatpants, at least?"

Warner sighs. He rubs his race and brushes his hair out with his hand.

"Why do you make my life so hard? Why do I allow you to make my life hard?" He steps forward and plucks the shorts from my hands, racing back into the closet, and depositing new bottoms into my hands.

He gestures toward the bathroom. I disappear inside before he can change his mind.

I pull on the sweatpants, rolling them a few times. It comes to my attention that they may not be meant for the female form. They are a blessing compared to the tiny tank top. I don't look in the mirror, sure it will make me more self conscious.

Reluctantly, I step outside the bathroom.

All the air leaves my lungs when I see Warner.

I have seen Warner in suits, I have seen Warner in coats, but I have never seen Warner in a t-shirt.

He's glorious.

He's wearing a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants that are scarily similar to my own. Ignoring my stares, he flings at hair tie in my direction.

"You're going to need this."

Warner's hand rests on the small of my back and he guides me to another door in his room. It opens to what I can only imagine to be his personal office. Items are strewn everywhere and yet it seems meticulously organized.

We turn toward an elevator door lying flush with the wall. Warner pushes the down arrow.

The doors open to a large room, perhaps larger than any I have seen yet on base. It is filled to the brim with what I can only imagine to be exercise equipment. I recognize dumbbells in the corner, treadmills off to one side and a climbing wall.

Warner stares at the room like it is his child.

"Welcome to your first day of training."


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: Hey! This chapter may be a little shorter than usual, but never fear! The plan is to get another one out before Tuesday. This was just a spur-of-the moment thing done at nearly 1:00 in the morning. Also, this is quite random, but it has come to my attention that people from different places refer to sneakers in different ways. For example: running or tennis shoes. If you don't mind answering, what do you call them? Thanks for humoring my randomness! Enjoy!**

My jaw drops, crashes through the floor and enters the core of the Earth. I have never seen a room like this in my entire existence. Gym class as a child was always running down to the end of the treeline and back. It was always ratty kickballs and torn sneakers. And, of course, it was me on the sidelines. No one would ever hold my feet for sit-ups. No one would so much as pick up a ball I tossed in their direction out of fear.

But this.

This is the most comprehensive system I have ever seen. Machines upon machines to measure heart rate, calories burned, and Lord knows what else. Signs reside there to inform you which muscles are which and how to use them. A single piece of equipment from this room could build new housing for an entire Sector.

It's no wonder Warner looks like a God.

What...what is this?"

"This is my private training facility. I told you we are training today. Are you not curious about your power?"

"Yes, but-"

"This is the best place to begin tests."

Warner leads me to the center of the room and surprises me by sitting cross-legged on the mats.

"What kind of tests?" My voice cracks on the last word.

"Nothing you should fear."

Warner gently shifts himself toward me. I had chosen a spot several feet from him, but he, clearly, is having none of it.

"We will start with something simple," he offers his bare hand. "Touch me."

A familiar feeling passes over me; that same out of breath, out of control, out of time feeling I always get when people expose themselves to me.

Warner reads my eyes like a book.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he addresses me.

"Nothing can ever be expedient with you, can it?" I open my mouth, prepared to criticize him yet again, but he doesn't let me.

"I know exactly what you are going to say. How dare I ask this of you? I don't and never will understand what your life is like, and I have no right to ask these things of you. Love, I can read your mind. Some wear their hearts on their sleeves, but Juliette you store your whole damn soul there." Sensing my need to argue, he holds up his hand. "Just listen to me. For once, hear what I am saying. You have already touched me on many an occasion, and none of those times did I feel anything but delight; exhilaration. On top of that, I am doing this _for you_. If I weren't, do you think I would have asked you to touch me? No, I would not have. I simply would have done it. Now, I say to you again: touch me."

I am flabbergasted. I know I should say something, but my lips fail, might as well have fallen off for all the good they do me.

With a shaking hand, I reach out and touch him.

For all his sophisticated words, despite his speech, Warner fails to hold his composure.

My fingers wrap around his and he gasps, his eyelids flicker over his gemlike eyes.

I quickly move to tear my hand away, terrified that something has changed, mortified that this time I actually hurt him. My fingers don't make it past his before he has them back in his grip. Clasping my left hand his right, his eyes twitch underneath their lids.

Warner finally lets my hand drop. His eyes return to normal and my heart nearly falls out of my chest. From his left hand, he produces a mashed up piece of tile and stares at it. My eyes follow his to the fist sized hole in the floor.

"Warner...how did you do that?"

He looks directly into my eyes.

"I didn't. You did."

"Warner, of all the things I have been accused of, this is a new one."

"Juliette, it was your power. It just kept building up and building up. I couldn't contain it anymore and...well, this happened."

He holds out the crushed flooring as if it is a Nobel Prize.

Warner quickly stands and runs to the rack of dumbbells, selecting a small one that, having seen Warner with no shirt, has probably never been used.

He reaches behind himself for my hand, knowing I am only steps behind him. He waits for the return of my contact, but becomes impatient with me and grasps my hand himself.

I watch as his hand closes around the weight. He pauses for a few seconds, his fist getting smaller and smaller around the piece of metal. Finally, he opens his hand. The results are stunning. The entire thing is deformed and made into a circle of sharp, thin metal edges.

My mind races with possibility.

"Warner," at the sound of his name, his attention is diverted from his destructive spree. "Can I do that?"

There is a light there that I have never seen before.

It is suspicious, glorious, charming, and terrifying all at once. I never want it to end.

"I simply conduct the power you give me. I wouldn't be surprised if I don't wield half the ability you do."

He finally meets my eyes, "Love, you can do anything."


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: Ahh! I have been so swamped between soccer, band, and school work, but here are two more chapters! Let me know what you think. Thank you so much for your continued support for this story. Enjoy!**

"But...my power is a lethal touch, not crushing things with my bare hands."

A wry smile, one I have grown to hate, plays with his features.

"Well, love, I'd personally love to know if your touch makes mine deadly, but I assumed you'd be opposed."

I brush this ambiguous comment off, engulfed in my own thoughts. I hadn't even wondered if I had given Warner my lethal touch. I had been so wrapped up in the power transfer itself. I hadn't contemplated what he would be able to do with it.

Curious, I slowly approach the shelf of dumbbells. Much to Warner's chagrin, I select a small one, the partner to the one he crushed. Both sets of my long fingers wrap around the piece of metal. I focus hard. I try to peel away the protection of my power from my skin and direct it to my hands. Never having tried this before, I am unsure of how to go about it.

I try to make my power a part of me in the way a hand or foot might be. My mind tries to move it, to command it in a way that I have never before imagined.

My eyes fall shut. I think of nothing but crushing this object in my hands.

I wait a moment.

Two.

Then my hands release and my eyes open slowly.

I stare blankly at the unchanged weight in my hands.

Another second passes.

 **With a feral yell, I throw it as hard as I can into the nearest wall.**

My fingers fly up to my hair and my feet turn away from Warner. Away from everything. Frustration like I have never known it works its way through my system. The weight makes a satisfying crunch as it embeds itself into the wall.

 _At least I can do that._ The sarcasm is thick, even in my mind.

I start to stomp in the general direction of the elevator. I'm not sure what I intend to do, or where I intend to go, but having no intention of remaining here.

I like to think I am quick on my feet.

Warner is quicker, "Juliette."

He uses my waist to spin me around. My hands are seconds from ripping my hair out by the roots, but he swiftly untangles them and pins them to the wall on either side of my head.

"Juliette!"

Keeping one cheek pressed to the cold wall, I refuse to look him in the eye. He counters this by pressing his body closer to mine, effectively keeping me pinned so he can turn my chin with his hand. I hate him.

"Juliette. What's wrong?"

I refuse to answer. Instead, I keep my eyes maliciously focused on him.

He sighs, but doesn't give in.

"You are being a fool. What is wrong?"

I explode.

"Everything comes so easily to you, doesn't it?" I am nearly spitting the words. I am being a fool, am I? Unreasonable, am I? For once in this miserable existence _someone_ will understand. Someone will listen. Because now there is no stopping me.

"All of this," I gesture to the room with my chin for lack of another body part. "All of this just fell into your lap simply because you happened to be _born._ You're father is the most powerful man in this part of the world and he gave you _everything_ you have. You lead a lavish life with the security of food in your stomach and a place to sleep every night. I, on the other hand, was born into _nothing_ with the most _hateful_ parents and a goddamn _disease_! Finally, _finally,_ I am allowed the circumstances under which I might understand my plight, and _you_ , the blonde boy with the world at his feet, is better at controlling my power than I!"

"Juliette, I hardly have the world at my feet." I scoff at these words, unable to believe a single piece of this.

Warner continues as if I hadn't done anything.

"All you need is a little practice. You just need to try-"

And that is all I hear because the next thing I know a fierce howl is escaping my lips. I am rolling Warner off of me and shoving his back into the wall in much the same way he did mine. Except I push much harder.

A cloud of dust explodes all around our faces. Warner's eyes are wide, surprise apparent, but I have no time for his amazement.

"Try? You think I need to _try?_ What was I doing when I offered that girl at my school my lunch everyday which her parents were fighting? What exactly was I doing when I gave another my seat on the bus? Nothing ever works for me. I can't even use my own ability." Those treacherous tears are forming in my eyes. "I've spent my life trying for the sake of other people. It's time for someone to try for me."


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: These two chapters are both short, and for that I am sorry, however, put together I think they make a good read!**

One word snaps me out of my trance.

He says it like it is the sweetest honey melting on his tongue. He says it like it is swelling music he just can't stop replaying. The syllables roll off his tongue in the most comfortable way. After all the tension, after all the stress, he is still composed enough to melt me. Warner says my name like it is his whole life.

"Juliette."

Disarmed, my arms go limp. Warner's nose lines up with my forehead very suddenly and I can feel the heat radiating from his lips. Warner just lost three inches of his height in two seconds.

My forehead creases, but the look on Warner's face tells me everything I need to know. Not only did I have him pinned, I was holding him inches off the ground with just my fist balled in his shirt. Taking a step back, I take in the big picture. A Warner-sized hole is smashed into the wall with the shape of his feet hovering off the ground.

Beside the large hole lies a smaller one with the weight still pinned inside it. Warner steps toward me, hands raised in a peaceful gesture. Suddenly, he turns and yanks the weight from the wall. He presents it to me in both his hands, as if it were some glorious award.

"Try it now."

Hesitantly, I take it from him. I close my eyes, just like before, but this time it is different. My whole body is radiating power. I can feel it. I feel invincible.

It takes no struggle whatsoever to crush this piece of metal between my hands.

I offer the shredded ball back to him, a slow smile coming to my face.

I look around at all my destruction, even accepting the things Warner destroyed as my own. He did use my power for it, after all.

Warner is smiling at me. A real smile. His face has split apart and he isn't even upset that I just pinned him to the wall. He steps forward and draws me into his arms. I close mine around him as well, careful to control the dissipating energy. He still shudders at my touch. There are still many things I need to control, but pride fills my when I think of how far I have come.

"I am going to try for you, Juliette." I can feel Warner's voice rumbling in his chest. He suddenly places my face between his hands, half of his fingers in front of my ears, the other half behind.

He feels amazing. He is so warm.

Warner eye contact is intense. It is perfect.

"I am going to try so hard for you. You deserve everything, Juliette." For the first time in my life, I believe him. I actually trust that Warner will help me. And it is amazing.

"Because you are glorious, love."


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's note: It's been what feels like forever! I have been so busy with this school year. October will be a busy month as well, but I will try to keep up with this story. I have deeply missed this and it has been a while since I have been in the correct state of mind to write. Hope you like this chapter! I am so excited about the future of this story. I have so many big plans! Alright, I have written enough for now. Enjoy this latest chapter!**

My experience in Warner's training room has made me more excited about my power than ever. All week I have been sending for this or that; a brick or sometimes a piece of furniture just for the satisfaction of destroying it in my fingers.

The Supreme remains on base; or at least no one has told me of his departure yet. He retains his mysterious air. He never leaves his chambers except to eat and meet with Warner, and, from what I have gathered, is only ever around his own soldiers. The Supreme has not summoned me since that first night, and I haven't had any cause to ask for him either.

Things have calmed down. Warner comes to visit me, but does not push my limits or provoke me. He is content to play chess, or, rather, he plays and I stumble along after his moves. Warner never asks about the broken things in my room, he simply has them removed. It is my assumption that he continues to run from meeting to meeting, as well as entertain his father, but he has been less anxious of late.

That is, until this morning.

Warner bolts through my door, a common enough occurrence, and flings a dress in my general direction.

"Put this on."

Not even allowing me the time to rub the sleep from my eyes, he pulls me out of bed and nudges me into the bathroom.

In my groggy state, I struggle to get the dress off the hanger. It looks gorgeous, of course. I pull it over my head and it falls into place instantly. Staring into the mirror, all I want to do is ask Warner how he gets my size so perfectly, but I'm not sure if I can allow myself to know that yet.

The halter top comes directly up to my collar bone with tiny straps circling my neck and finding the matching piece of fabric in the back. It is pure white with thin lines of golden beading. The design starts out heavily tangled at the top and lessens to just a few strands floating down around my legs at the base. Vines snake across, sprouting spontaneous leaves.

The dress is high waisted and fitted closely at the top. The thin fabric gently floats down my legs, higher in the front than the back with the tiniest slit up my right leg.

Warner gently taps on the door. He opens it only a few inches and places sparkling gold heels on the counter. Without looking at me, he retreats back out and the door clicks closed.

I pick them up, staring at them. The material is amazing, tiny little golden sparkles send a million rays across the room and onto my dress. I have no idea how I am going to walk in them.

As if he can see my expression, Warner's voice comes softly through the door.

"Don't worry, love. You won't have to bear them longer than half an hour."

I place them on the floor and step into them. I want to curse. They are perfect. There isn't a single part of this outfit that a normal girl wouldn't die to wear. Unfortunately, I am not a normal girl.

I turn in front of the mirror, feeling like a mannequin.

"It's too early for this," I say quietly.

Not quietly enough based on the laughter outside the door.

I brush my hair out, using just enough effort to make it look presentable, and turn the doorknob.

Warner looks a little too proud of himself when I emerge from the bathroom.

I blush.

"I thought you were in a hurry," I raise my eyebrows.

Warner takes one more second, then replies, "Right." He offers one elbow. "Come with me."

Holding on to Warner's arm in a lady-like fashion, I move through the now-familiar base, wondering what could possibly be on the agenda today.

The passage looks familiar, but I cannot quite remember where it leads. For once, I feel giddy passing through these walls. Odd, considering all that has transpired here. I am stumped trying to figure out where we could be headed. An impending sense of happiness rains down over me, but the only truly happy moments here were spent locked in my room with Adam. I certainly was never happy in public.

Then I remember just as the corridor deposits us in front of an odd looking door. Odd because it bears a neon 'Exit' sign, despite clearly being several levels up from the ground.

We step into the courtyard, the first outdoor place Warner had ever taken me. Sparking an intense episode of déjà vu is a giant crowd composed entirely of soldiers. They are all standing with their fists to their hearts, exactly as before.

Warner's pace picks up, forcing me to stumble along beside him in these impossible shoes. His entire demeanor changes, but I cannot explain how. For it to have changed, there has to be a definable difference in him. The end result is Warner as a leader, in a more militant role, but where he began I cannot say. Warner has been everything and nothing to me in my time on base. As an instructor, he has helped me develop my power, and as a confidant, he has listened to my stories and ambitions. This boy has kissed me and danced with me as if he loved me, but he keeps me trapped by his rules and his guards despite knowing that I have nowhere to go.

I look at his face. Really take in his features. His incomparable features. He has teased me, taunted me, threatened me, and humiliated me. Though, perhaps he was only a catalyst for me to embarrass myself. He has also trained me, fed and clothed me, and shown me how to survive the worst type of people. The ones like he and his father. I don't know where I stand with Warner and I don't know where I would place him either. For now, perhaps, we can stand on neutral ground.

But I guess I cannot know until this assembly has passed.

"Sector 45," They switch fists just like the last time.

"We have a very dire situation to deal with today," Warner's authoritative voice carries far over the vast space of the courtyard. I watch the unpredictable sky. Just now, it is bright blue and sunny with not a cloud in sight, but the feeling in the air is one of warning. As long as I can remember, I have always been able to feel something different in the wind as the storm approaches. _It will rain today._

Warner takes a little too long to begin his speech. My arm is still wrapped around his and I have to struggle to get a good look at his expression. I know the entire crowd is staring at me, wondering what kind of freak show I have performed this time. I wonder how many will be disappointed when they realize that it is not me we are here to discuss.

"Adam Kent, one of your own, is a deserter."

My breath hitches. Warner doesn't react.

"It appears as if just this morning he abandoned the line of duty for the outside world. He left with only the clothes on his back, a standard issue gun, and a couple supplies stolen from the base."

If any of the men are surprised, they are careful not to show it. Did Adam have friends here? Did he belong? He seemed to excel when I was under his care. Clearly he is in the best of condition, and he is important enough to work so closely with Warner. Life must be horrible even with a gun in your hands here.

"Kent's selfish acts will not go unpunished. In fact, they may already have been," Fear pools in my stomach with his first sentence, but by the second one I have actual tears threatening to spill.

"Last we checked, his tracker is no longer functional. This means only one thing. Kent is already dead." The courtyard is spinning. It must be an earthquake, a tsunami, a volcanic eruption, anything.

"However," Warner continues on as if my world isn't crashing down. As if my first love isn't dead. "We will be sending men after him. He will be detained and properly punished as my father and I see fit. If you see him, do not treat him kindly. He is a fugitive and an enemy of this state and is to be treated as such. Adam Kent is not your friend. And he is not to be trusted."

Warner spins on his heels. The men in the courtyard scramble to finish their salute as he walks away. Even worse on my feet than before, Warner scoops me into his arms as soon as we are out of sight.

There are no soldiers around to see me in this feeble state, happily. Presumably, they are all still gathered in that damned courtyard.

Warner sets me down in a plush red chair in some abandoned room I have never seen before.

"Love, what is the matter?

Taking deep, yet unsatisfying breaths, I say, "S-so dizzy."

I lean forward with my elbows on my knees and just wait.

"Damn. I should have fed you before taking you outside." He races to a dust-covered panel and presses a button. He orders an excess of breakfast food and returns to my side.

I shake my head.

"Not food," Warner gives me a confused look. I know he will hate me for this, but the words fall out of my mouth anyway.

"Adam."

Warner steps back, releasing me when I have never needed someone more.

"It's my fault. It's all my fault, Warner."

His head snaps up. The tears begin to fall.

"How could this possibly be your fault, love?"

"He wanted me to go with him."

Warner is taken aback, as I suspected he would be. He looks angry, confused, and hopeful all at once. It takes all my restraint not to smooth the crease in his forehead.

"He what?"

I try to look him in the eye. Fail. "He asked me to go with him. He was going to take me away from this base. From you." Warner actually flinches.

"I knew he was leaving and I did nothing," My heart cracks, "and now he's dead."

Warner shushes me gently, holding my shoulders.

"Love, listen to me. Kent left. Kent did. You have nothing to do with his actions and his death is due to his own stupidity."

My face crumples. Warner doesn't seem to have much experience consoling women. One would think he would learn quickly around me.

"He promised that he would give me a normal life. Adam was going to leave everything behind for me."

Warner snorts. "Normal. What does anyone know of normal life anymore? And how can what is normal be better than here?"

"That's why I said no." I say softly.

His face snaps up to capture my eyes. Warner's hand holds my chin captive.

"You said _no_?"

I nod, slowly.

Suddenly, he becomes reserved.

"Why? Why did you say no?"

"I haven't been in the outside world in years. I have no idea what it is like or what Adam can actually give me out there. All I know is that here I can be certain. Never certain of what I might experience, but certain about the simple things. Food. Water. Clothing, even if I hate the selection." With something reasonable on my mind, my breathing begins to slow. Warner even chuckles a little at this.

"And," I continue, "because of you."

Light filters through Warner's eyes. Into the dark places in his head and brightens something in him that I have never seen before.

"You have the things I need to discover my power. You are the only one that can give me that and I cannot give that up. Not even for Adam. My life is safe here, and I thank you for that. I still do not know why, exactly, you brought me here, but perhaps I can make my own reason. This is where I will discover myself."

Warner lunges forward, kissing me emphatically on the cheek and burying his face in my hair. My arms suddenly feel like limp noodles. I loosely wrap them around his torso, not enough to encourage him, but enough to let him know that I am not completely unreachable. I am neutral. I am here. I hope that can be enough for him. It may be all I have left to give.


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: Hey, guys! This is a chapter I have been looking forward to for a while, it just didn't seem to want to happen until now. I hope that you will enjoy the newest character in the story and that I have done them justice! Thanks for your support!**

I stare at the ceiling's pocked surface. The repetitive pattern spins into various shapes like clouds on a deep blue sky. My eyes have been tracking these lines for an indeterminable amount of time when I realize that something is wrong; off.

Something has changed, but I cannot pin it down.

"Oh, thank God. You're still here."

My limbs flail, my feet scramble, and somewhere along the line my hand slams into the bedpost. The world spins for a moment, but my eyes lock on a figure standing just inside the door.

"Who are you?" I demand, failing at a threatening voice.

With a smirk he says, "I am your knight in shining armor, sweetheart."

"My what?"

"Your knight, your savior, your handsome," on this word he places an exaggerated amount of emphasis, flicking up one dark eyebrow. "Prince Charming. I am going to sweep you off your feet and toward your happily-ever-after."

Disenchanted by my unchanged expression, he looks to the side, blows all the air out of his lungs, and offers his hand with a toothy grin.

"Hi," he says, offering his hand. "My name is Kenji Kishimoto, and I am going to get you the hell out of here."

"What are you talking about? I'm not going anywhere." I don't know who he is, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let another teenaged boy change the trajectory of my life.

Kenji drops his hand, "Come on," he whines, mimicking a child. "Yes, we are."

I shake my head. Unbelievably, this mysterious Kenji is making me feel guilty for not agreeing to his ridiculous plans.

When I say nothing, Kenji glances around the room for the first time since his arrival.

"Woah, look at this room! What makes you so special?"

"I kill people," I say bluntly.

"Oh, right."

"Besides," I mumble. "Warner's is better."

Kenji halts his inspection of my room to study my expression.

"Hold up, princess. You've been in Warner's room? No wonder Kent bailed so fast."

Maybe my mumble had not been as quiet as I thought.

A blush paints me red from head to toe. For the millionth time in my short life, I want to crawl back into my cell and curl up. At least there no one expects you to have social graces.

A little piece of information tickles the back of my mind. Something Kenji said…

 _Kent._

"You know Adam? He told you about me?" I practically beg, desperate to change the subject.

"Yes and yes. In fact, he never shut up about you. Just on and on. 'She's my world; she's my sun; she's my _everything_.' I had to throw a pillow at his sappy ass just to shut him up."

A treacherous flood of longing takes over. I need to get my emotions under control. Adam left. Without me. Because I told him to. Because I had things under control. Because I thought I knew what I wanted. Because what I wanted then is still what I want now, except Adam is gone. And yet he keeps slapping me in the face with loving gestures and sweet nothings. Even if those sweet nothings were whispered to Kenji.

Kenji sees my conflicted expression. And takes advantage of it.

"You know, Juliette, we could always try to find him before going to...the place." Frustratingly, he leaves out our hypothetical destination.

He struts toward the door, turns and says, "Oh, and don't let Warner's 'bed' keep you from coming with me. They have pretty nice beds where I am headed. And much better people to share them with."

With a solicitous wink, Kenji quite literally disappears out the door.


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note: So my insane schedule has finally ended! Hopefully this will mean I will post more often and have much more writing. I thank all of you guys for being so patient and I hope you enjoy this next chapter.**

Nothing can ever be simple. Straight forward. There always has to be some twist in the road, something to make me unsure of my footing.

I've only just met this Kenji character. The logical part of me wants nothing to do with his plans to escape. I know that nothing good can come of it.

And still it is tempting. Start over, take a break from the same three people I have spent the last few weeks with. My life has become unpredictably tedious, if such a thing is possible. Day after day I spend holed up in this same room by myself, or hiding out with Warner in some conference room I have never seen before. My schedule rarely deviates from these two activities, yet it is impossible to predict which one I will be participating in on any given day.

I have fallen into the comfortableness of this life. Spoiled by the knowledge that I am worth exponentially more to Warner alive than dead, and by the assuredness of plentiful food and warm clothing.

And yet Kenji has risen in me something that is excited by the unknown. Something that would easily give up the aforementioned benefits to life here for the chance of adventure.

 _Maybe he can take me to people who can help._

 _Maybe he will take me to people who the same as the ones that put me in the asylum in the first place._

The rest of the day is spent in contemplation. These two points relentlessly running through my mind. The world outside the window felt as if it were taunting me. Telling me that an all new life may be just outside the window, and I am stuck in here at the mercy of countless men in uniforms and perfect suits.

I know one day the Supreme will tire of my sponging off of the base and appear to end my life. I know one day Warner will decide exactly what he wants from me and try to change my life. It only matters which one is faster.

My contemplation period continues on. For two days nothing but the arrival of my food happens. I decide then that if I am not going to take Kenji up on his offer, I should find a way to track the happenings on base. So far there seem to be multiple days of what I would consider insane running around, but probably are Warner's off days as he has time to seek me out, days of zero activity, which are, in reality, probably swarming with visitors and prisoners that I don't have the liberty to interact with, and days of overlap; the times when Warner requests demands my presence at a meeting or dinner.

Utter silence has taken over my room. The lack of interaction the last few days has sent me back to my days in the cell. Days of multitudinous counting episodes, days spent curled in the corner, days spent staring at the ceiling.

Finally, as predicted, a soldier comes to my door in the same manner as they always have to deliver me to Warner. I am decidedly dressed down as I walk through the lines of soldiers. During my days of rest I have grown accustomed to jeans and cotton shirts and, having been given so special requests, this is what I don for the day.

An excessive amount of soldiers are lined up along the walls outside my room. This piques my interest. Am I truly regarded as such around here? None of them make eye contact with me. Most have seen me before and the dumbfounded looks are nowhere to be seen.

The usual procedure takes me to the usual conference room at the back of a long hallway.

This processional is so routine that I don't even feel compelled to have my defense at the ready. They are taking me to see Warner. I am preparing myself to sit through another day of his just-a-little-too-personal questions and his possessive stare. That is, until I cross the threshold of the conference room.

There are decorations everywhere. Lavish cushions on couches I have never seen before, drapes that make you want to tear them open and reveal what is behind them, even if it is a mess of a world out there, and tables upon tables of food.

I have seen Warner waste food before, but nothing to this magnitude.

A feast ranging from breakfast to dessert and what I vaguely remember as a chocolate fountain line the tables, which themselves are covered with gold fabric.

A feeling reminiscent of the one I felt when I first entered the desert boils up inside me. I feel sick, appalled, disgusted by my surroundings.

 _I should come to expect this,_ I tell myself. _I should always be ready, but they are never going to change. They are never going to see what good all of this could do for the entire compound community while nearly all of it is a waste here._

I think all this and more to quell the insane beating of my heart, but nothing works. I want to vomit across their carpeting and throw their ridiculous pieces of cheese to the starving people. So many could bathe in the gallons of water at my beck and call. And there is nothing I can do about it.

So, for the umpteenth time, I close my eyes on this and breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

When I reenter the world the extravagance strikes me again, but it is sickeningly bearable this time. I push down my feelings on tell myself that one day, one day, all of this will be righted. It has to be.

There are no soldiers in the room with me, indicative that it won't be long before my captor arrives. Warner, much as he claims to trust me, never lets me alone for very long unless I am holed up in my room. I suppose I should take it as a compliment. I am so very important that he can't take the smallest chance of losing me, and, misguidedly, he thinks I have the capabilities to do it.

With nothing else to do, I find myself tracing patterns in the fabric of the couch. I have never experienced anything like it before. Warner must be feeling particularly extravagant this morning.

I pull my finger across the surface, creating pictures wherever the material is pulled against the grain. Once I am satisfied, I erase it by running my hand with the grain. My finger starts to tingle after a while, but boredom entices me to keep tracing.

"Do you like it?" A voice asks from behind me. "It is velvet."

"Interesting," I reply, not wanting my words to reveal just how much I am enjoying this, despite the bile in my throat.

"I do hope you like it. This is nothing like the exquisiteness of my usual lifestyle," My brain decodes the voice as Warner's, but there is something different about his tone today. There is something a bit more commanding. A bit more condescending.

"And yet it is too much," I respond.

A gentle laugh erupts from the man behind me.

"Too much? Can anything ever be too much for the Supreme Commander?"

In the next moment, the movement in my neck is so fast, I am surprised I don't have whiplash.

I stumble to my feet.

"Oh my Gosh! I thought you were…" My voice cuts off; however we both know what I was going to say.

 _Warner._

The Supreme laughs again, with less humor this time.

"You thought it was my son that had followed you in here." He takes slow, decisive steps toward me. I take slow, equally decisive steps in the opposite direction.

"Well, you are quite lucky, my darling," my teeth grit at his endearment. "From anyone else, I would have taken that as an insult. But, seeing as you have spent so much time with my son as of late, I will attribute your slip to that."

I let my eyes flit around the room as the Supreme motions for his soldiers to leave.

My stomach drops out.

He makes his way to the couch I was admiring and pats the seat next to it. I choose a chair across the room.

He clears his throat. "So, dear Juliette, I trust that you remember our last little chat."

When I deliberately avoid eye contact, he continues, "And, as you have probably noticed, Warner has done nothing to correct the lack of work you are putting forth on base. We," he draws out the word as if we are partners, "are going to fix that today."

My eyes squint shut in hopes that I can block out the entire world.

"Oh, darling. Don't expect the worst. We can come to an amicable solution as long as you are willing to cooperate."

"And what is your proposed solution?" I ask, terrified of the answer.

"You will do what was intended of you when you were transferred here."

"And what is that?"

"You will torture war criminals for information using your God given abilities."

" _What?_ "

"Juliette, you knew what was expected of you from the moment my son retrieved you from that hellhole."

For the first time, I look him directly in the eye, unable to back down, "I never agreed to torture people."

"And yet here you are."

"Because I was forced to be," I say, my voice gaining strength. "Warner threatened to hurt me if I didn't agree."

"Did he? Perhaps I have taught that boy something."

My lips smush together in frustration. How can I possibly be from the same planet as this man?

"Shouldn't you try everything at least once?" The Supreme stands up and begins pacing. My hands latch on to the armrests of my chair with a vice-like grip.

"You never know, Juliette. You may just enjoy yourself."

For the second time in five minutes, I want to throw up.

"That's sick."

A serious look replaces cordial one, and I know nothing good will come next.

"If you're not willing to help us, then I am afraid you cannot stay on base."

"Fine," I say, despite being far from it, "Then send me back to the asylum.'

"Sweet Juliette, I am afraid I cannot do that." My head falls into my hands. Of course he can't. Of course there has to be something. "You see, my son has a bad habit of telling people things he shouldn't, and you have been with him for far too long to have been immune to this."

Then he says the words that crush my soul.

"If you cannot participate in the extraction of information from criminals," he reaches into his pocket and produces a gun, "then you cannot remain alive."

And then, here and now, I don't know if it is adrenaline or desperation, but a rush of bravery comes over me.

"Then shoot me, because I would rather die than work for you."

"Bold. I like that. If only Aaron were more like that."

 _Aaron._ Warner's name is Aaron.

"You should be proud of Warner. He is nothing like you. That's a win in my book."

The Supreme comes forward quickly, pinning the gun to my head and digging my spine into the plaster wall.

"I never claimed to be a good person. I only claim to be a damn good leader, and I am certainly that." He says, nearly spitting the words, "My son, however, is a fool. He falls for people's tricks. Especially women. He has always been weak around women."

"And how is that?"

"Juliette, you may be ignorant, but I can see that you are not stupid. Even you must have seen how taken my son is by you. He lets all of his emotions get in the way. He has waited on you hand and foot and demanded absolutely nothing in return aside from your companionship. Perhaps that is how one flirts, but is is not how one leads a country."

Warner. Taken by me. Words that have always been in the back of my mind, but ones that I have never really given any merit to. Even his father has seen it, and this is only our second meeting.

 _What am I going to do?_

"Warner is smarter than you think, as well. Perhaps I am worth more than you realize."

He pushes his face closer to mine, holds onto the collar of my shirt a little tighter.

"Then prove it."

That feeling, _the_ feeling, the one that I have spent my life trying to stop comes over me. And I let it. I close my eyes, feel his finger get closer to the trigger. I can feel all my emotions build, all the manifestations of my power collect. My fingers tingle.

I imagine sucking the life from that child all those years ago. I remember taking down Jenkins. My fingers recall digging into the wall beside Warner's head.

Then, suddenly, I realize they are lacing themselves into the wall behind the head of his father. My right palm connects with his face and my left slips the gun from his wavering grasp.

My fingers crush his clavicle, his windpipe. I break his shoulder against the wall and I can feel him twitching under me. Needing air, he claws at my tiny hands and I marvel at his giant fingers unable to stop mine.

His face changes colors, red to purple to near blue and I drop him.

The Supreme buckles like a rag doll, but I know he is not dead. Perhaps his ego has taken a hit, but he will be back.

My eyes find the gun on the floor, but I cannot bring myself to finish him off. As much as I hate him, I cannot take another life. I do not believe in collateral damage.

The door slams opens as the large man hits the ground with finality. I don't bother to look up, knowing that in seconds I will be handcuffed and dragged away to await my execution for attempted murder. Perhaps I will not even make it that far. Perhaps they will splatter my blood across the wall and leave, not even bothering with my body. And I will lie there until the Supreme comes to and stands above me, laughing at this stupid girl who enraptured his boy.

And Warner, he will be sorry for the loss, of that I can be certain. But he will move on. He will have to.

But the entirety of this fantasy is erased with one incredulous word.

"Love."

I look at Warner, the enormity of what I have just done washing over me.

"Warner," I say desperately, "I have to leave."


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note: Another chapter! Let me know how you guys feel about this. It came out a little differently than I was expecting, and a lot different when compared to the other chapters. I may make changes to it later on. I hope I am doing these characters justice and keeping them realistic. Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate! Thanks for reading!**

"Juliette," Warner stumbles over my name. "What have you done?"

The fear is so apparent in his eyes. This moment is too big, my actions too irretrievable for him to retain his usual composure. I can feel his mind rushing through all our options at this moment, searching for the way that he can make this right.

It doesn't take him very long to realize that there are no solutions to this. I have just signed my death warrant. The only thing to do now is decide if my life will end today, or if I will give myself a fighting chance.

"H-He threatened me, Warner!" My words sound so weak without the adrenaline rushing through my limbs.

"My father threatens everyone, love. Don't you understand?" He steps forward with his last three words, wrapping his hands around each of my arms. I almost believe he can undo what my hands have done today.

I cannot believe his words, however. Warner, who claims to hate his father more than anyone is telling me that my actions went too far.

"Your father held a gun to my head!" I am on the defensive, as always. I lay back, stay out of the spotlight and never cause any trouble and still they come for me.

Warner glances around then, locating the discarded weapon on the floor. He releases my arms and they fall to my side. His own hands grasp his hair, tugging at the roots; an action I have seen him take more and more lately.

"Jesus, Juliette! What am I going to do with you?"

I approach him, prepared to beg.

"I need you to get me out of here. Your father was prepared to kill me long before I gave him reason. He certainly will not hesitate now. Unless," I say, pausing, "unless I agree to torture people."

"No," Warner says, sure of himself, "No, you no longer have to worry about that. The damage to my father's ego is too great for him to let you live." He nods to himself.

"You were right," he adds. "You need to leave."

Warner grabs my hand, tugging me out the door.

The Supreme's soldiers start toward the opening and Warner quickly denies them access. The men recoil and open their mouths to argue when Warner silences them.

"The Supreme wishes to be left alone until further notice."

We rush back to my room, disregarding the stares we attract. I have never seen Warner less composed. Strands of his usually coiffed hair fall into his eyes, which glance wildly back and forth.

The blonde boy faces me, not wasting a breath.

"Alright, alright. Just….let me think."

He paces the room, passing over the same patch of carpeting nearly one hundred times. I watch, sure a hole will develop in the floor shortly. Hoping only that it will be big enough for the both of us to crawl into.

He turns on his heel during his eighty-eighth pass.

"I know a few houses in the compounds," His excitement is building. "A few families that would be willing to hide you, for my sake."

I don't have time to ask him why anyone in the compounds would do him any favors.

My hands flail uselessly in front of me, desperate to accomplish something. As they do, they stir something in me; a memory. A hand proffered to me not long ago, giving me an escape.

 _My name is Kenji Kishimoto, and I am going to get you the hell out of here._

"Warner," I gasp, gripping his forearm. He had continued to babble on as I slowly came to my realization. "Kishimoto."

" _Kenji_ Kishimoto?"

"Kenji Kishimoto." I confirm. "Do you know the name?"

"Uh, yes," Warner's eyebrows knit themselves together. "He is one of my soldiers." Clearly, Kenji has fallen out of favor.

"He is my way out of here," I say determinedly.

" _What?_ "

"He came to my room a few days ago," I try to choose my words carefully, ignoring Warner's scandalized expression. "He offered me a way out."

"And what, pray tell, does he propose?"

"He said he knew of a place that we could escape to. He…." My voice fizzles out as I realize just how little I know of Kenji's plans. "He said he could help me."

"Kishimoto is going to help you?"

I stare into the corner, not willing to concede this. I dug myself into this mess. All I want is to be able to pull myself back out.

"Warner just-" I sigh. "Your father is going to wake up and go on a rampage any moment. We are blessed it has taken this long. Just entertain Kenji's idea. For me."

Warner sighs as well, glancing at the clock as if there is a set time the Supreme will wake up. As if there is a guaranteed amount of minutes to solve this problem. As if he most likely isn't waking up at this very moment and bounding down the hall, gun poised to kill us both.

"Fine."

Warner drags me through the halls yet again. We make it to the ground floor and into a strikingly less decorative hallway. Doors begin to crop up on either side of us.

 _Soldiers' quarters_ , my mind tells me.

He pounds on one of the doors.

" _Just a minute!_ " Calls a masculine-trying-to-be-feminine voice from the other side. It would be amusing if there didn't exist the knowledge that this was the man I would be entrusting with my life. This Kenji has guts, at least. I'm going to need that.

A couple seconds pass, my anxiety growing with each one. I fear that Warner will bust through the door, and see him move to do just that as it opens a crack and a familiar face appears.

"Christ!" He exclaims, registering Warner's face.

The door slams shut in our face and an cocophany of noises comes from beyond.

Kenji opens the door once more, finishing his belt buckle and snapping to attention.

"At ease, Kishimoto," Warner says, his voice warning Kenji not to get too comfortable. Kenji relaxes, his arms falling uncomfortably to his sides.

"I assume," Warner states, "that you and Juliette are already acquainted."

Kenji visibly swallows. He eyes dart nervously toward mine and away. I want to tell him not to worry, but that would be a lie.

"Sir, I believe that all the soldiers on base are acquainted with Juliette."

Kenji is playing it safe. I can respect that. If only he knew how bad of a time he had chosen to do so.

"I have been made aware that you know a way off base. An escape plan, as it were."

The fear reaches it apex before me. Kenji's muscles tense, pulling his shirt taut against his chest. Soldiers are trained to keep their fears hidden on the battlefield. But you can expect to be threatened during battle. You never see it coming in your own bedroom.

Before Kenji can deny his knowledge, Warner begins speaking.

"We need your help, but it will require you to put your life at risk."

Warner is calling a meeting. It is during this meeting that Kenji and l make our escape. Kenji had bags prepared for our potential departure weeks ago. Over the course of several years he has collected various food items, first aid equipment, and multiple items of clothing, including women's t-shirts. I waver on whether or not I should ask him where he acquired the latter.

Warner and I had a short goodbye, and this is all I can think of as Kenji and I sprint through the dewy grass.

 _I try not to dwell on our odd situation, Warner and I alone in a soldier's bedroom as I prepare to say goodbye. This man that I despised with all that I was when I arrived has somehow molded me, despite my hatred, into the person I am now. One that is finding it treacherously hard to let go._

" _You and Kenji know the plan. It is risky, and I have no doubt that people will suffer for it but…" He pauses, seemingly oblivious to the lack of time. "But it is worth it."_

 _His hand cups that in between spot on my face. The one just at the junction between cheek and neck. The one that runs from the edge of my bottom lip to the soft spot below my ear. The special place where you rest your own hand when you curl up at night. I nuzzle my face into the touch, not caring that I still don't know how I feel about this boy. Not thinking about the fact that my life and the lives and many innocents are at risk because of me. Not thinking about the blue-eyed boy that got me through my first weeks here, not thinking about the brown-eyed one preparing for my escape. Thinking only of the one with the striking green eyes. The most confusing person I have ever met, and quite possibly the only person in this world that I am irrevocably indebted to._

" _Life will go on for you, Juliette. And for myself. I will come for you when the dust has settled, but there is no guarantee that will ever happen. This may be the last time we see each other."_

" _I hope not." These are the only words I can manage through the knots in my stomach and the frog in my throat. They aren't the best last words, but they are good enough for us._

" _Goodbye, Warner."_

I exited to the hall to find Kenji sticking his fingers down his throat.

"Barf," he stated upon seeing me. Always the poet…. "That was the sappiest thing I have ever heard."

We waited the appropriate amount of time, always on the lookout, and then began our travels through the crowded hallway.

We followed the traffic of soldiers, looking for the door Warner told us about. The one that is the least guarded in the whole building. Because it is two stories up.

An apparent design flaw, the door opens into thin air, presenting a 30 foot drop to the pavement below. My self-proclaimed knight stooped to secure a hook into the door jamb, glanced around, took up the length of rope and stepped into the night as if stepping into a room. I only heard his feet as he rappelled down the side of the building. My directions were much scarier. I stepped forward, barely having enough wits about me to remember to act. I closed the door as much behind me as I could and slipped off the edge of the threshold, dangling thirty feet off the ground by my fingertips. I unhooked the rope from the door, dropped it to Kenji's feet, and awaited his signal.

When I heard the whistle, I clenched my eyes shut, braced my nerves, and released my grip.

The vomit-inducing free fall sensation came over me, engulfed me for far too long, and then was cut off abruptly when I landed in Kenji's clothing clad arms.

True to his nature, Kenji uttered, "I think you just fell for me." He then put me down.

And now I am here, staring into the night ahead of me, unsure of my future, but fully aware that it begins now.


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note: Hey, everyone! Sorry for the long wait...again. Happy holidays to you all, and thank you so much for all your reviews and favorites. It means so much to me. Let me know what you think of this most recent chapter, and I hope to get a new one up within a week. I made one small change to the previous chapter, nothing too big. Lastly, I was wondering if any of you thought that the song Demons by Imagine Dragons was the perfect summation of Juliette and Warner's relationship. Let me know what you think!**

Kenji and I are racing through what would be the lawn of the military base. He leads our little expedition partly because he knows where we are going, and mostly because we haven't even reached the fence and I am breathing as if I'm allergic to physical activity.

I'm sure by now the Supreme has awakened to find his throat stained by blue fingerprints. I'm sure they have tended to his shoulder, treatment he likely refused, and probably feels exhausted, a side effect of my touch.

Part of me can't help but smile at these thoughts. I, just a weak girl in his eyes, was capable of more than he ever imagined. I have done more to oppose him in these last few hours than Warner has done his whole life. I wonder, sometimes, why Warner never did more to stop his tyranny.

I also know that my life is in more danger now than ever. The Supreme saw me as a girl before. Just an incredibly destructive power guided by a benevolent soul. Now he sees me as a threat, or, at least, as an irritant. Something that needs to be wiped off the planet before she has the chance to infect his downtrodden population with something they haven't felt for years.

Hope.

And I have hope, too.

I hope that this escape plan works. I hope that Kenji knows just how appreciative I am right now. I hope that Warner hangs on and doesn't give into his father's regime. And I hope, beyond all hope, that the Supreme knows just how much I despise everything he stands for.

Just as this last wish pushes its way through my consciousness, I become aware of another, more urgent, hope. I hope that we can soon stop all this horrid running. Not in the emotional sense, either. In the sense that I hate the strain in my muscles. I hate the pounding of my heart and the scraping of my breath through my lungs. I hate Kenji for having an inexhaustible endurance.

"So you're telling me," these are Kenji's first words in nearly half an hour, and they present no sign of the windedness that is killing me. "Warner just shows up in the middle of the night, expecting me to lug _his girlfriend_ through the woods to _my_ safe haven and he didn't even have the decency to put your ass on the treadmill?"

A wave of self-consciousness rushes over me.

"I'm not...his girl…friend." I want to crawl under a rock. Kenji can spend _minutes_ at a time complaining about me, while I can't even develop a coherent sentence in my defense.

"Well, perfect," Kenji says, changing his demeanor entirely. He literally sweeps me off my feet and into his arms, slowing to a walk. "Then you're available."

"I'm hardly available," I sneer.

"Oh, yeah?" He counters, "How's that?"

I hold my hand up, just a few inches from his strong jaw. An empty threat.

"Would you like to find out?" I bluff.

Kenji laughs, a wholehearted laugh unlike any I've heard for a long time.

"Put that thing away," he says, grasping my wrist just millimeters from my bare skin. "You don't even know how to use your own power."

"I've made it this far," I say, abashed.

"And look where we are," gestures his arms, my body still residing in them, to the scenery around us. "We are running...well, walking...away from one of the world's greatest superpowers after you tried to _kill_ him. I'd say you need a little more practice."

"And _you're_ going to teach me?" I ask, dubiously scanning his face.

A smirk encloses half his mouth, "I know more than you might imagine, princess."

" _Princess?_ " I am appalled. "Do you have any idea what I have been through? What my life has been like? My life is far from that of any royalty."

"So is everyone else's, darling." A serious look overtakes Kenji's face. "Everyone's life sucks. Only difference is that you have the power to change that _in your skin_ , so I suggest you realize just how _lucky_ this power makes you and _harness_ that shit."

A small smile creeps over my face. There is something about this boy. Something in the way that he looks around us as we walk, something about the way he scooped me up, and something about his words not just tonight, but all the times we spoke. This boy knows exactly how terrible the world is, and yet it never seems to diminish his spirit. More than that, he doesn't let me get away with anything. No self-pity, no tears, no complaining. With Kenji, nothing was easy, but, it seemed, no one was alone either.

We approach a sudden wall of trees. Kenji steps through the foliage, guiding my head around a thick branch, but allowing a thin twig covered in half-dead leaves to bounce off my forehead. I can feel his shoulders shake with laughter as I rub the stinging part of my forehead, trying to play if off.

He takes a zig-zag path through the woods and arrives at the base of a thick tree, one he is clearly familiar with. This of the woods doesn't appear to be heavily trafficked, but, to be completely honest, I have no idea how far from the compounds we have come. Kenji had guided us with no lack of assurance over tall hills and under various fallen logs. Many times during our run I had wanted to question him. To find out how he knew exactly where not to step, exactly where every little hole in the ground would be, but somewhere between being unable to catch my breath and unsure where his next move would take us, I never spoke up, and the moment just doesn't seem right now.

"Are you just going to leave our food lay?" I ask, half-teasing. "Aren't you afraid of," I widen my eyes, " _bears_?"

Kenji releases a laugh, one just as deep and real as the one he has earlier. I just give him this look, the one I have given him so many times, the one I feel belongs explicitly to Kenji now, after only three meetings.

"Look around you, Juliette," His face is encouraging, but his expression tells me that I should already know what he wants me to find. "I'll give you a minute."

I glance around, feeling the bark of the tree I'm leaning against and running the toe of my sneaker through the loose dirt at my feet. I walk to the edge of the forest, where we had arrived initially. I feel the branch that touched my face, but something isn't quite right. The dead leaves don't crumble as easily as I remember. The bark of the thicker branch is knobby, but strangely smooth.

"What is wrong with this?" I ask myself more than him. My thoughts are nearing the precipice, dangling off, suddenly falling into understanding.

"It's-"

"Fake? Plastic? Made up to trick the populace into believing the world is okay?" Kenji asks endless rhetorical questions, barely masking his disgust.

"But… but this tree…" I say, tracing my steps back to the tall tree.

"Is one of the few real ones left. Probably old enough to remember a time when people respected the very things that gave them fresh air."

 _One of the few real ones left…_

I touch its surface, memorizing the feel underneath my fingertips and promising myself this isn't the last time I will feel real bark.

"Well that's…."

"Terrible? Horrible? Sick? Don't have to tell me twice," He says, continuing to set up our meager supplies. "In some ways you've been lucky, Juliette. You've been locked up. You have only seen the before and after, none of the during. I watched, stared is probably more accurate, while they cut down tree after tree. Beings nearing one hundred years old cut down with no thought. No nostalgia whatsoever. Just decided it was time for this life to end and did their bidding. I don't know what you think of me, Juliette, but at least know this: I have no respect for those who murder things that have done nothing but good."

No other words needed said. We simply exchanged the ones relative to our survival until it was time to sleep. By then, it seemed, Kenji had returned to his normal, exuberant, self.

"You know," he said, sliding into his sleeping bag, "I know how we can make these two sleeping bags into one. It does get awfully cold at night."

"Good night, Kenji," I said, turning over so my smile is hidden.

"Last chance to cuddle together for warm-"

"Good night, Kenji."

I hear a couple of deep-throated chuckes, then, "Night, princess."

I drift in and out, trying to not think about the fake forest surrounding me. Desperate to forget all the time, effort, money, and resources that went into this delusion when it could have gone to actually saving the forest. Or the starving children. Or the homeless families. To all the places it could have gone when instead it came here.

When I finally get it off my mind, I find myself thinking about Warner. About our goodbye. About the way I was so tempted to say his name, to say Aaron. And about the moment that I realized that the moment needs to be more perfect than that. Far more perfect.

I wonder if he is safe on base. My mind goes through terrible horrible absolute worst-case-scenario situations in my head regarding Warner and his father, but I am forced to push them out and forget them because otherwise I might go insane. I wonder if he is okay. I wonder if he misses me.

Slowly, engulfed in the fabric of my sleeping bag and listening to the soft drone of Kenji's snores, I begin to drift off.


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note: Hello, everyone! I hope all your holidays were amazing, and I hope that school/work/life is going wonderfully for all of you! On my end of things, I have about a million and two assignments, plus midterms! Such fun! I will try to keep up here and not fall off the Earth like I have in the past, but if I do, please forgive me. I am also trying to make my chapters longer. We'll see how it goes. Lots of Kenji moments in this one that I am proud of and I hope you will enjoy them. Please let me know if you feel that the characters are out of character at any time. Anyway, this has been awfully long, so I will go. Enjoy!**

The sky is still dark when I open my eyes. I hear a crack to my left, exactly like that of a twig underfoot. My head turns to the side gently, trying to locate Kenji in the night. I worry he is restless.

But Kenji isn't there.

Sitting up does nothing to help the situation. Everything looks more threatening in the night. The trees encroach from above, and the knobby roots of the trees snake their way underneath me. Most menacing of all is the silence. The crack of the twig still lingers in the air, but no new sound appears to replace it. It feels as if every living thing on planet Earth is holding its breath.

My own breathing, however, picks up. Terror shoots down my spine. How horrific, to fear the things you cannot see, and how taunting that the fear I feel may be completely unfounded.

If only Kenji would return...

 _He's fine; it's fine,_ I chant to myself, _He just got up, that's all it is._

But even as this mantra plays through my head I begin to hear footsteps. Too many to be Kenji's alone. They confirm all my nightmares, all my fears. Horrid feelings runs up and down my spine, across the backs of my arms, and all across the inside of my skull. Fear like I have never known before. The men are circling, staying beyond the treeline to keep the advantage. I roll over violently, fumbling with the zipper on the sleeping bag, foolishly tangled in the sheets.

When I finally free myself, tripping over my own feet, I crash through the growth, bounding through trees and hurdling fallen logs. I'm sure that my attackers are gaining on me, coming up behind me quicker than I can run, and I'm equally sure that they will catch me and drag me back to base.

The forest flies through my peripheral vision.

It's over. It's all over!

My mind needs no proof, it simply knows that Kenji is dead and I will soon follow. I will live long enough to get back to base. Long enough for the Supreme to make his decision about me, one which I'm sure will take no time or effort whatsoever. But not long enough for Warner to stop him. No, I doubt I will ever see Warner again.

I know this is my fate, and I know I have no chance, but I run dash through the trees anyway. I have to try, even if it is in vain.

Then I trip.

I fall. The drop taking far too long.

The entire world is moving in slow motion around me. I have time to notice the early morning light streaming through the trees, to notice how lovely this forest is, even if it is all a ruse. I have time to think back through my life and realize just how lucky I have been. My home life was abusive, but, unlike so many others, I got out. I was trapped in an asylum, but I always had food and a roof over my head. I was taken against my will to base, but I fell in love with Adam, and I always had Warner to defend me, even when I didn't know what to make of him. Many people stand defenseless in the compounds, and I have the best survival tool in my own fingertips. My life may be hard, but it is far from unlucky. My luck must have run out.

Then I hit the ground. All at once. All the parts of my body connecting with the leaf-strewn dirt. The last thing I feel are hands on my back.

A jolt runs through my body and I am awake. Truly awake.

My chest is heaving, and yet my breaths are shallow and ragged in my throat. I push myself off the ground. During the night I must have turned over to my stomach, lending itself to the horrid dream fall.

My face turns left sharply at the movement beside me. Kenji.

He has one hand on the small of my back, the other hovers in the air, unsure of where to go. We both remain frozen for one second before the laughter tumbles out of him.

"Have a bad dream?"

"It's not funny," I say, weakly trying to silence his laughter. "I thought you were dead."

I had hoped that this last part would quiet him, show him just how serious the nightmare had been, but his laughter just builds. I hate him. I hate him for laughing at me, and I hate him for knowing more than me, and I hate him for not being scared. Most of all, though, I hate him for touching me. He is the only person I ever wanted to fear me. Well...one of few people I would prefer to fear me. His hands show no hesitation in touching me, but I wish they did. I wish he would take me seriously.

I reach out and punch his shoulder.

"Be quiet!" I hush him, "Someone is going to hear you."

"If they didn't come running when you were screaming, they certainly aren't going to come now."

I still, feeling more self-conscious than angry. "I was screaming?"

"Like a banshee," he says, taunting me. "'Kenji is dead!" His voice falsetto, "Oh, Kenji, you were far too young and attractive!'" He continues, swooning. He even goes so far as to hold his hand to his forehead.

I punch his arm again, garnering no results.

"Relax, princess. We have to far to go for you to start throwing punches now."

I sigh, resting at the base of the tree once again and letting all the tension seep from my muscles. Kenji produces two granola bars and tosses one in my direction.

"First thing's first," He says, tucking his feet underneath him. "We are travelling in the daylight now, something I would prefer we not do, but considering the sheer amount of people on the hunt for our heads at this very moment, we don't have time to waste."

Kenji finishes his breakfast, continuing to talk about little nothings with his mouth full, and begins packing up our camp. I quickly follow suit.

"Are there really that many after us?" The conversation had found its way to other things, and yet Kenji shows no confusion when I ask this.

Kenji looks me dead in the eye, maintaining eye contact while he stuffs various items into his sleeping bag. "You nearly _killed_ the Supreme Commander, Juliette. Playtime is over. At first, he'll want this to stay under wraps. A few troops of men dispatched here and there, then, the longer we stay hidden, more and more still. If we're lucky," he says, wincing, "he'll send Warner."

"And if we're not?" I ask foolishly. Kenji's eyes darken in response, but he says nothing.

"It's time to go. Follow me."

I do, I follow him directly into the most dense part of this "forest", praying that he knows where he is going. Praying that the Supreme sends Warner. Praying about everything.

"So," I say, desperate to break up the silence. "What can you tell me about this place we are headed?"

"Very little," Kenji says simply.

"And why is that?" I prompt him. He has to tell me something. This is far too much faith to put into one person without information.

"You see, Juliette, there is still a substantial chance that one or both of us will be caught and dragged back to base. They likely will torture us for information. I know that _I_ can hold up. You, on the other hand, I have my doubts about."

I am about to argue, shaping my mouth into a little 'o', but I decide against it. He is probably right.

"Now, of course" he resumes, "this condemns you to endless torture until they have established that you truly know nothing."

He turns, noting the panic in my eyes, and quickly amends his statement. "I would never want that for you, Juliette. You seem like a nice kid," he says this, despite his own youth. "But, you are worth far less than Ome-" He quickly cuts off, "the place I am taking you."

His words tear me apart. I have felt worthless my entire life and Kenji, in one sentence, has confirmed this. Sure, it was unintentional, but...still. I cover my hurt with a joke.

"Is that how you woo all your women?"

A fake look of offense takes over his serious expression. "Juliette, you wound me. Do you really think me so incompetent with women? Really," He says, spinning me towards him with my arm, "look at me." He gestures in a circle around his face.

"Perhaps if I were invisible I would need some trick. Some gimmick, but I'm hardly that….Well," he laughs to himself, "usually I'm not, anyway."

"What's with that?" I ask, using the vagueness to guide the conversation.

"What's with what?" He responds.

"All the offhanded comments. You say them, then laugh to yourself. Care to share what you find so amusing?"

"Juliette, I promise, if we get to my hideout, you will understand every comment I have made."

"All of them?"

"Every one," he says, winking.

"If you explain now I could laugh along beside you."

Kenji crosses his hand over his heart, miming a heartbreak. "What are you suggesting, princess?" He says, playing. "You think I need _you_ to validate my jokes? Hardly. You see, princess, I am hilarious. And I know it."

My hand clasps my left arm, drawing circles on my sleeve. Kenji wraps his hand around my arm and twists it, sending me into a spin I automatically associate with dancing. Through some switching of arms, and a little careful maneuvering to keep his skin away from mine, Kenji has me pulled into his side while I cringe away.

"So Kenji," I drawl. His laugh affirms my belief that I cannot be nonchalant no matter how hard I try.

"So princess," he parrots, "nothing can ever be easy with you, can it? Nothing can ever be fun. Every little touch, every move documented in that pretty little head of yours, huh?"

I blush. Again. It's a miracle I even have blood in any other body parts. My heart, it seems, only serves to pound in my ears and to flood my face with its contents. Both of which are acts it is committing at this very moment.

"You seem to have me figured out quite well," I say, attempting to divert him yet again. "And yet, I know nothing about you."

"On the contrary, princess. You know that my name is Kenji, and that I am a soldier. _And a stupid one at that_ ," he says the last part under his breath, hoping I won't hear. "You know that Kent and I were friends." My heart perks up at his name. _Time does not heal all wounds, apparently._

"You know that I have connections. You are a smart girl. I would imagine you are aware of the few lifestyles available in this world, and since you haven't asked which one I belonged to before the army, you probably know it wasn't pretty." My eyes flicker to his face. I am still full of too much anxiety, still overflowing with too much self-admonishment to focus too much longer, but in that flicker I can see things I have never seen in anyone before. And yet they are so similar to the traits present in the faces of everyone in this sad world. It's all about perspective, I suppose. Or perception. Or perhaps even just Kenji himself.

And then, just as I am finally getting an intimation of who this man really is, he closes back up again. He paints over the memories and the pain with jokes. Fun. Something he seems to have in spades, but something that I can barely define.

This is a strange, strange world.

"And, obviously, you are aware of my _extreme_ sexiness. I mean really," he says, releasing my waist to gesture at his own physique. "You would have to be blind to miss this."

I ignore his suggestive comments, but he pushes on. "Seriously, princess. That boyfriend of yours better hope that someone finds us before our trip is over. I'm irresistible, honey."

" _Boyfriend_ ," I say, half scoffing, half testing the word on my tongue. _Boyfriend._

I give him a playful shove. He doesn't flinch.

In fact, he laughs. "You are like a tiny little bee," he says, holding his fingers close together to emphasise my size. "Like, I know you can sting me, but, princess, I can crush you like that." Closing his fingers together, he snaps in my face. I jump.

Kenji laughs. Again.

Once the joking has subsided, we take up our jog from the previous night. I struggle. Pain shoots through my legs from the exertion of my first physical exercise in years. The pain balloons out across what Kenji labeled as my quadriceps, and down through my calfs.

Despite this, the more I run, the more the muscles stretch out, the less pain I feel. I also realize just how well I slept last night. Despite all odds, the mental exhaustion caught up to me and made sure I was well rested.

We pass by tree after tree, not bothering to make small talk. Kenji stops us every once in a while to react to suspicious rustling, but it always turns up nothing. Once, after particularly noisy and completely uncoordinated vault over a fallen log, he stops me, confronting me about my obnoxious running.

"Listen," he begins. "I know you're a princess, princess, but you have to run a little less like an _entire herd of cattle_. More like a ninja." He strikes a comedic pose.

"Ninja?" I ask, unprepared for the very nearly violent reaction on Kenji's part.

"You have never heard of ninjas?!" He yells in my face asks. His fingers fly to his forehead, smoothing out the muscles there, then continuing down the length of his face.

"Alright. Alright," he acts more sane. "Ninjas are these badass fighters that you never see coming. We need to be like that today. No, scratch that. We need to be like that for the _rest of our lives_. Because why would you ever want to be any other way?"

He smiles his goofy smile, one side climbing higher on his face than the other. Kenji often reminds me of a dog. A big old golden retriever that is giant and fluffy, but has a deep bark. His tail would be constantly wagging, his eyes always searching for some fun, and his ears always alert.

"Fine," I attempt to placate him. "How do I ninja?"

After earning myself another wince with my question, Kenji quickly falls into ninja mode, explaining everything from ancient ninjas from a mysterious place he calls 'Japan' to 'Teenage Mutant turtle' types in media more recently. Then, he proceeds to crouch, intricately detailing the 'ninja run'. He teaches me to run on the balls on my feet, using my ankle to absorb the impact.

Once he has finally finished his rant, he forces me to try, correcting my first attempts as if it is severely important that I master this, but compliments my last tries until, finally, he is satisfied.

We fall back into step, Kenji with a little more to hold over my head, and myself with a little more information in my head.


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Note: Hello, all! Here is a new, much longer chapter that really pushes the plot. This has been a long time coming and I am sorry that the last couple have been sillier filler chapters. My sincerest apologies for any poor formatting on my part, I intend to clean it up later with some editing, but as things are right now, I really need to focus on math homework. Thank you all for your continued support; you cannot imagine how awesome you all are. Without further ado... Chapter 21.**

Somewhere around midday, Kenji takes a sharp right, bringing us to the edge of the forest.

"Alright," he says, breathing deeply. "We lost them in the forest. Probably. Now, we run through the streets."

Mischievous grins are a trademark of Kenji, or so I'm learning, but never he has never had such a smirk as he does this moment. Kenji acts so juvenile, and I wonder, as I have so many times before, how he can be so laid back in such a world as this. I suppose, though, this this is just how Kenji _is_. On base, with Warner, and under whatever circumstances he lived before the army Kenji had to be reserved, controlled, and perfect at all times.

 _This is his vacation._

Stressful as it is, it is the first true situation in what has likely been years where he can truly be himself. So, I play along. We run through old streets, our backs against crumbling walls when we can likely roam as we please. Kenji whips his head back and forth, giving me secondhand whiplash. He shuffles through back alleys, he darts across open spaces, he squats behind moldy boxes, all whilst humming something he identifies as the 'Mission Impossible' theme song.

It is an old movie, he claims. Everyone in this world, it seems, is an enigma, but Kenji is the most mysterious of all. He own such a vast wealth of information on the lives of our predecessors, and yet he also knows exactly how to navigate our own time. I wonder if he knows just how jealous he makes me. While this man infuriates me, I would do anything to have his expanse of knowledge. I have such an amazing power, or so they claim, and yet I have none of the tools to use it.

* * *

"Can you climb a fence?"

I stare at Kenji. Then at the fence. Then back at Kenji.

"No? Didn't think so. Did Warner _have_ to make this so damn _hard_?"

Kenji bends down, one knee falling into the mud. It is vaguely reminiscent of the salute I witnessed back on base.

"Alright," interlocking his fingers, he looks me in the eye. "Your foot goes here."

He nods to the cradle he has created. He is a madman. I have spent my life trying to downplay my juvenile delinquent status. I have tried to stay out of the way and to never step on anyone's toes. I did all that I could to keep in good graces with those who help my life in their hands. Despite my past, and perhaps partially because of it, I step up, my hand resting on his shoulder.

"Now," he instructs, "I'm going to count to three. When I get there, you are going to straighten your leg, and I'm going to stand up. Grab the top of the fence and vault over. Can you do that?"

"Probably not," I second guess myself.

"Great," he says, unflinching. "One, two…."

I get ready, bouncing on my other foot to build momentum. I am terrified I will not make it to the other side. Or, rather, that I _will_ , likely acquiring an incapacitating injury upon landing.

I don't have time to worry about any of this, though, because Kenji is yelling, "THREE," and launching me toward the sky.

He throws me high, catching both my feet at about shoulder height so the top of the fence meets my waist. I catch it. Kenji pushes my legs up yet again, this time releasing them to the forces of gravity. I swing them over to the best of my ability. The pocket of my pants catches on the chain link and tears, but I don't mind. The rush is exhilarating. I am flying and I am weightless. I feel like my own bird.

My feet touch down. My knees bend to absorb the impact. I roll forward and finally stand.

The entire event is over in three, surprisingly painless, seconds, but I feel about one hundred years old.

I glance over all my limbs, confirming that they are all still where they are meant to be. Run my tongue over all my teeth. Touch my nose, my eyes. Stand astonished with my small forms power. I suddenly remember a quote, one of many they screamed at us during gym class. "Your body will not go anywhere your mind does not push it." I had always hated hearing that. Surely it cannot be that simple. At some point there must be a collapse, a breaking point where the will of the mind simply cannot make up for the exhaustion of the body.

But now.

Now, I feel invincible.

"I did it," I turn toward my counterpart. "I did it!"

Kenji is having none of it. "That is _great_ , princess. But now it's my turn."

He takes two steps back, runs at the fence until I'm sure he will break his face on it, and scales it in one step. His form flies over the top and falls silently to the ground.

Dramatically, he raises his head. " _That_ ," he gesticulates in the general direction of the fence. "is how it is done."

I roll my eyes. He cannot take this moment from me, no matter how impressive his 'ninja skills' are.

Abruptly, he changes the subject, disallowing me further celebration of my rebellion, "Did Warner give you a tracker when he brought you to base?"

 _A tracker._ I hadn't even considered that. I rifle through my memories, wincing at quite a few. None of them involve a tracker, but I spent far more of my time on base unconscious than I would have liked. Truly, I can never really know. Warner was kind to me before I left; he was kind enough to _let_ me leave, but when I first arrived….

I shake my head, "I don't know."

"That means no. Fortunately," Kenji says, flashing back to what must be an unpleasant memory, "you would know. It involves a huge ass hypodermic needle and quite a few manly tears."

I giggle, but soon realize what this means.

"So," my voice is severe, "Someone is sitting on that base watching our every move? And you didn't think it was a good idea to warn me before now? Didn't think it was smart to dispose of it until now?"

"Well, of course I have, princess," Kenji yells, defensive. "Problem is, they are smart. The tracker isn't some metal chunk in seam of my pants. It isn't even something I can cut out of my skin. It's in my _blood_. Hence, the needle."

My mind is racing, but I manage to pin down the information I have on the circulatory system, which, admittedly, isn't much.

"Doesn't the serum get filtered out somewhere along the line?"

Kenji sighs, squats down. With his hands on his knees, he just stares at me, "I don't know, J. I really don't."

"There are theories," he offers. "But, unfortunately nothing is steadfast in this world. Least of all technology. At any rate," Kenji stands, gestures around, "we are here. Kent thought he was so brilliant. When he came to me with his escape plan, the first thing he said was, 'Dude! I can confuse the tracker!' As if I don't already know about it. Dumbass…"

"C'mon, Kenji," I'm not much of an Adam fan these days, but this is ridiculous. "How could you have known? Wait….did you say _confuse the tracker_? So we have a chance?"

"I've said it before, I'll say it again: there is much for you to learn about Kenji Kishimoto. Just not today. 'Course we have a chance."

"How?"

"This was the site of a nuclear power plant about a decade ago. Then, it exploded, making the entire area radioactive and practically useless as far as the Reestablishment was concerned. I mean, sure, they would love to stick a couple innocent families right in a nuclear hot spot, but it doesn't really make for good press when you're first starting out."

My arms automatically hold themselves tight to my sides. I feel contaminated, like I should take a shower for the rest of my life. I know enough to know what radiation does.

"Isn't it dangerous? Shouldn't we leave?" My voice drips of desperation, but Kenji simply shrugs.

"I've been here plenty of times. Kent has been here plenty of times. It simply disables the tracker. I look dead, they assume you are too. That's all. Besides- God, I am so _psyched_ to show you this; you will _freak out_ \- we have these adorable little miracle workers on base. Any illness, just gone. " This last comment piques my interest, but, like so many other times on this trip, I have to suppress my curiosity.

"Does Warner know about this tricking-the-tracker business?"

"Perhaps. Doesn't change much, does it?"

"It changes everything if he think we died!"

Kenji's face twists into a grin I don't like.

"And why's that?"

I don't respond.

"I'm serious. Let's think about this. If even _Warner_ thinks we are dead, then we are free and clear, right?" His smile broadens. "Now why on _Earth_ would we want anything different?"

I bite my lip. Refuse to speak. Refuse to look at his idiotic face. _God, why is it so easy for him to read me?_

Adam has known me since the earliest years of my life, and still he asked me questions. Still he wanted to learn about me. Warner ask me questions all the time. What does my power feel like? How can I have such astounding self control? They both tried to unravel me. Kenji, on the other hand, makes one comment and I am putty in his hands.

Damn him.

"I'm just messing with you, J. This life can certainly be confusing." I allow myself a small smile. Kenji chuckles under his breath. "The classic love triangle. Does the heroine choose the man who abandoned her, or the one who tortured her? Man, I really don't get women."

We make it to the other side of this clearing, and jump the fence before settling in for our next night. Kenji takes his food and leans against a tree about twenty feet from our camp. In front of him, he spread maps and makes little markings. I wonder how he could possibly have acquired all of this _stuff_. I dare not ask, lest I be greeted with another, "There is much you don't know about my, Juliette," speech. Instead, I promise myself I will pay more attention from now on. Clearly, he does a lot when I'm not looking. Maybe it will help me decipher this strange boy.

I attempt to look over his shoulder once or twice, but he simply shoos me away, saying, "I'm trying to get my bearings," and, when that didn't discourage me, "I have a nice view of your _ass_ ets from here."

Eventually, I give up and settle into my sleeping bag. Kenji does the same shortly after.

"Kenji?" I say, not bothering to make eye contact.

"Yeah?"

"If you were me, if you were in my position, rather, with this 'love triangle', as you call it, and everything else, what would you do?"

"Don't you mean who?"

"Huh?"

" _Who_ would you do, like, ah, forget it. Well, princess, who knows. First of all, I would realize just how lucky I was. To have such an extraordinary power, to have such a dedicated following. Never having a normal life has its fair share of dilemmas, but you, my friend, will go on to do things that people of the past couldn't _imagine._ That would be my first order of business. As far as your love life, I would choose whoever makes you happy. You find them both attractive, yes?"

I blush, positive that it's rubbing off on my sheets. "Yes…"

"Warner is a raging psychopath," I start to roll over, prepared to scold him, but Kenji extends his arm. "Just personal opinion. But Kent can be a dick as well."

I look to the sky, regretting seeking Kenji out for advice.

"Hey, you asked. Now, enough of that eye rolling crap. I'm under the assumption that you have been looking at both of these guys as if they are saints. Adam, with the tortured past, Warner with the tortured, albeit spoiled, present. I am only telling you this because you have been comparing all the good things about them. Maybe you need another perspective."

"Always such a help, Kenji… so what's the plan?" I shift gears, more pressing matters fluttering into my mind. "How long until we arrive wherever we are headed?"

"That depends."

"On?"

"We have some decisions to make." He expounds when I don't reply, "As promised, I can deliver you to Adam and we can all depart together. Seeing as the Reestablishment assumes we are all together, we might as well be. Or, if you aren't on good terms, we can go without him."

I ponder this for a moment. I know nothing of Adam's living arrangements, but I do know that he is tenacious. Adam would have materials, equipment to help us get on our way. He might even be tempted to come with. I glance around. No signs of civilisation, but the landscape has become strange in the last couple generations. One can never expect where the frozen tundra will end and the beach will begin. Similarly, it is easy, from what I have gathered, to stumble upon pockets of civilisation. Perhaps we will find Adam in one. Perhaps we will find people who can help us.

"Do you think Adam could help us?"

"The boy is scrappy. Dramatic as Hell, but he can take care of himself."

"Fine," I concede. "We add Adam to our expedition."

And with that, the decision has been made. I fall asleep before I allow myself to rethink it. I don't think about what Adam might say when he sees me. My mind blocks out the thoughts that ask me what he will do when he learns just how much danger we have put him in with our escape. Above all, I do not consider what he will think of me when he learns that I was more willing to leave with Kenji than with himself.

* * *

Kenji gives me a time limit this morning. With Adam added, under the best conditions, we should arrive at his safe haven tomorrow in the afternoon. He warns that this day will likely be the most dangerous.

"Lots of time spent in open areas. On top of that, the Supreme Commander will be royally sick of our shit right about now, so this place will be crawling with soldiers." Kenji indicates the space before us with his free hand.

We are squatting in the shadow of a small building, one I assume was once a house. I want to investigate the buildings, more for relics of the past than anything useful, but Kenji insists that there is no time, and I know he is right. I want to suggest that we come back to look after getting settled in our new home, but I know that it will be too late by then.

 _This is how the Reestablishment did it,_ I think. _We ran so far and so long from them that they had time to leave only the memory of our shattered history in their wake._

We begin our trek across this concrete jungle almost silently in the cool, dark early morning. It is almost easy to believe, in this complete darkness, that there are still people living here. They are sleeping still, destined to wake after two or more hours of needed rest, kiss their wife on the cheek, and pass their white picket fence. It is during the day, when there are no lights, no cars roving the streets, that it becomes blatantly obvious that this area has been ravaged by our new government.

As we pass, I look in window after window. The insides of the houses are abandoned, everything left behind. Sometimes, when things are abandoned, it is just a shell of what it once was, all the important things having been retrieved. This, however, was a mass exodus. Dishes still lie on tables from breakfast, lunch, dinner, some meal they were in the midst of enjoying. Blankets are strewn across bed and floor, books are lying open, their binding permanently compromised. Most heart-wrenching is a porcelain doll, an antique, clearly very expensive with what I can only imagine to be an exorbitant amount of sentimental value. Part of her head is missing, cracks thin as hairs snaking and jag their way across the pale surface. I wonder when we began to value control and conformity over happiness.

Kenji seems to be in no rush, though he picks up pace more and more as the sun crosses the horizon. By noon we are at a jog. We have established a routine by now. Run, mostly in silence, pause only to listen or look for incoming threats, and eat when necessary, with no true schedule.

"I'm proud of you, princess." Kenji announces this around 1:00 with no preface.

"Care to tell me why?"

"You don't sound like you're dying when you run anymore. Finally built some endurance. You are finally a respectable ninja."

For some strange reason, a sense of pride fills me. "Thank you."

We continue on. Kenji points out various buildings along the way. An old school, a church, a slaughterhouse. These things are so incongruous, I wonder how a society could function with these things at its forefront. People actually valued education and religion. Now, people have to fight just to live.

We break into a new world. A neighborhood of sorts resides on the other side of a particularly tall building. People are out in the daylight. Some are scavenging, some seem to have places to be. All of them look underweight and miserable. I can only imagine the life they lead out here. Technically illegal, they are residing outside the jurisdiction of Sector 45, but, as evidenced by the ease with which these people stroll, no soldiers ever come around here to apprehend them. I can't help but smile. It is the first evidence of unrestricted life I have seen since I was a child. No doubt life is hard, but if there is one pocket of rebellion, there are likely others. There is hope.

Suddenly, Kenji shoves his arm into my chest. He forces me to tear my eyes away from the people, earning him an evil glance. The look on his face terrifies me. Kenji squints into the distance, but before I can follow his gaze, we are running along the street. I don't understand. My mind races a million miles an hour but I still don't understand what is happening. The people are yelling, screaming, crying, there is a deafening roar coming from speakers attached to telephone poles above our heads. I had assumed they were long since dead.

"CURFEW IS NOW IN EFFECT. PLEASE RETURN TO YOUR HOMES IMMEDIATELY. THERE ARE ROGUE REBELS IN THE AREA."

They continue to scream, people run rampant across the pavement. I follow Kenji's gaze. Massive tanks are rolling down the street not 30 yards away. Kenji tackles me, pulling me down into the gutter.

A squeak slips from my throat.

Kenji shushes me, his voice very near to my neck. We are both lying on our sides, I can feel Kenji's hand resting, likely unnecessarily, on my hip. He makes no moves though, and I don't ask him to. Soldiers are marching down the center of the crumbling street. There are no commoners in sight anymore. Kenji managed to land us in a ditch, but it is nothing short of miraculous that they haven't yet spotted us.

Finally, the majority of the mass has passed. Following up behind is another tank, one with the top popped open daringly and a dashingly dressed man leaning out. He his one hand braced on the edge of the opening, and the other held to his eyes, shading them from the light. He glances our direction and the light flashes across his face. _Green. Emerald green eyes._ Blonde hair, emerald green eyes, strong jaw.

" _Warner_ ," Pure shock drags the word out of me.

I feel a betrayal I have not felt in a long time. On base, he always stood above his soldiers. He always wielded the power and it _always_ felt like us against them. Now, however, I stand on the other side. He and his army walk together, bear the same symbols and colors and strongly compose the _them_ side. Meanwhile, Kenji and I huddle in the gutter, effectively dooming the _us_ party.

"Princess," Kenji says, his breath brushing my ear, "You need to _shut up_."

I start to turn, ever so slowly to prevent any noise. Unsure of what I intend to do, I twist my body to face my partner in crime. Except I don't see anything. Kenji is missing and it is just like my dream all over again. I am all alone and the enemy army is standing right in the periphery, threatening me. _They will take me back, they will take me back and Warner won't be able to save me and they will kill me_. My mind races through all sorts of ridiculous possibilities. Kenji was simply a figment of my imagination. He never existed. I planned this all by myself. I am insane, still huddled in my cell. This world is not real. _Nothing is real nothing is real nothing is real._

And then I raise my hand to wipe the tears from my eyes. And I have no hand. And I scream. Loudly.

I look at my body, the place my arms should be, my hypothetical waist, and newly discovered legs. I gasp and hyperventilate and scream, shaken with a fear I have never known. This is real life and how am I going to get out? I exist but I don't exist. I have a consciousness but I have no physical proof. I have died and I have no idea what is happening anymore.

I am up. I am moving. Away, on legs with a mind that has no destination.

My body is visible again. I nearly collapse. Then I do, but it isn't my fault. Yet again, Kenji has tackled me, shoving his clothed sleeve into my open mouth.

"God _damn_ it, Juliette!"

Then it all goes silent. There are no birds, of course. There have never been any birds, but my brain makes this connection anyway. The wind does not blow, and the only footsteps are far down the road. In the midst of all this nothingness, I glance up.

 _The tank has stopped._

Right in the middle of the road, the metal beast has stopped dead, my golden haired companion of the past few weeks is turned directly toward me. Our eyes are locked and neither of us knows what to do. Kenji looks away from my face, locating the object of my intent focus.

Then, without warning, he plunges back into invisibility, taking me with him.


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Note: Like always, it has been way too long since I updated last. I will get better, I swear. In other news, I am pretty excited about this chapter and ones to come. The story still has a long way to go, good news for those who are enjoying it, I suppose. But if it becomes too lengthy let me know. Anyway! I know you are probably all dying for some Warnette action, and while there is none to be found in this chapter, it** ** _is_** **coming. Soon. I swear. Enjoy!**

I don't scream this time. My mind still panics, but I calm myself down, knowing that all that matters right now is keeping our cover.

My eyes don't wander from Warner's face. His forehead scrunches in confusion, not a common expression for him. I imagine a flash of pain at my loss crossing his expressions, a slight twitch in the eyebrow, a tug at the lips, but we are at such a distance that I cannot identify a change.

Perhaps it is not there. He is so practiced, perfect. God, he's so perfect.

 _Then again,_ I think to myself, _maybe his lack of reaction has nothing to do with his perfection._ My brain tortures itself, contemplating all that could have occurred since I left the base. Perhaps he realized just how silly he was being. Perhaps his father has gotten to him and he actually is after me. Perhaps he has found another freak with a superior skill, some other girl with superhuman strength or telekinesis.

My heart breaks in two.

But no, I shake my head at my own thoughts. Surely he would not have let Kenji and I escape just now had his intentions changed….surely it is a good thing that he ignored me. _He is giving me a chance,_ I will this to be true. I hope it can be enough. Still, the doubt does not leave my mind. Isn't it funny how your mind can be your own worst enemy?

If I can just get to wherever Kenji's final destination is, if I can get there and set up a new life, hopefully one with people capable of sorting out my old one, I can take a step back. I am far too close to the issue right now. Our predicament is like a fine work of art. You have to back up to fully understand it. The big picture is often bigger than what you can see.

But if I let Warner leave, how will I find him in the big picture?

Warner passes out of sight. I am locked on the spot where he disappeared over the horizon. The oddity of the situation overtakes me. Here I am, pressed into the dirt of a neighborhood I no longer thought existed. Kenji has me pinned to the ground, straddling my small form and holding his forearm to my mouth, though I have long since stopped screaming. On top of all of that, I cannot _see_ him. He cannot see me. He is guessing where the parts of my body are, and I can only assume his position from what I feel. All of this is happening, outside the plane of sight, but it is happening. And no one in the world knows it but Kenji and I.

It is a peculiarly intimate moment, in spite of the violence it took to get us here. In spite of the fact that we are strangers. But, like all things, this pause in time does not last.

Kenji stands up, releasing my body, and pulls me to my feet, causing a slight blip in which I am visible. His gruff voice is in my ear.

"We have to run. I need you to hold my hand while we do it, _for the love of all things holy,_ _do not scream again._ "

I nod, rather stupidly because he cannot see me, but he senses my consent and takes my wrist. It is rather awkward trying to run like this but with no gloves to be spoken of, this will have to do. At first I stumble, not entirely sure where my legs are, but I pick up a rhythm eventually. Meanwhile, Kenji wisely, and patiently, guides us through the towering walls. I'm desperate to question him about this power, it's similarities to mine, and how he learned to control it, but he has heard enough of my voice unsolicited today.

Soon, the buildings start to thin. Houses and little apartment buildings crop up. _Suburbs,_ my mind identifies. Like the buildings in the city, the houses here are all mismatched and many haven't seen their intended use in years.

"Adam lives in one of these compounds."

"You don't know which one?" I am once again struck by just how spur-of-the-moment this escape is. Though, Kenji has gotten us this far. Such strange situation…

"But, of course! I used to visit Kent all the time! Ran through the woods, scaled a radioactive fence on my lunch break. I even spent Thanksgiving with his mother once-"

"Alright," I say, feeling foolish. "I get it. Must you always be so sarcastic?" _I am always asking this question_ , I realize. _I suppose I should just accept Kenji's saucy personality…_

"No, but hard-ass Kenji is no fun...for either of us."

I vaguely hear Kenji's right arm shift, as if he's gesturing toward the downtrodden homes, "I know the address," he answers my nearly forgotten question.

"It feels good," he muses. "To be looking for an address. So mundane. So casual. It feels like I'm a kid again, trying to find his way to a friend's house. Perhaps headed to pick up a date…It feels good."

He is so serious, that I don't pick on him for this last comment. Once again, I imagine the life that Kenji must have had. The life that I might have had, if I had been a normal child. If I had been born just two generations before, when there were no genetic mutations, or, rather, none that brought death to innocents. Just two generations pre-Reestablishment. I imagine the life that I can bring back to the people.

We can no longer hear the speakers instructing the people to return to their homes, but no one reemerges. It is hard to tell if it is out of fear, or a simple lack of people in this area. This world's inhabitants have become quite adroit at hiding in the shadows.

A lone cat strolls through a nearly dead bush. It is a scruffy thing, but far less gaunt than I would have expected. I smile to think that someone has taken the time out of their difficult life, has used resources that likely could have been used to improve their own existence, to save the life of a cat. Or, perhaps, it is more than one person. Maybe everyone needs to pitch in to make something work. Or, unfortunately, it is possible that none of this occurred. The cat is just as talented as the humans at survival. It doesn't need anyone in this cold world.

Despite the realism that always seems to creep up on me, I am hopeful that his cat is evidence of what the world could be. What it still is underneath its hard surface and cruel dictatorship. None of them want this. Not even the men fighting to retain this regime, as evidenced by Kenji and Adam. Even Warner struggles to find his place in this world, and he was practically born royalty. If only there were a way to make everyone see that they are stronger as a whole, and, most importantly, that they are not alone in their thoughts. They cannot be controlled.

Wishful thinking, at least for the time being, but perhaps in the future, two or three generations down the line. Every empire has its rise, every empire has its fall. This one will be no different, of that I have no doubt, it is simply not knowing when that tears apart my heart. Time is too precious to be wasted in the arms of these demons.

"There," pulling me from my reverie, Kenji gestures to a point I can only hope is not far from our current position. It is too bad that I cannot see which direction he gestures. I am just about to point this out when Kenji reappears in the landscape. My eyes trace the line of his arm down to where his hand is holding my own. I, too, have regained my proper appearance.

I have never been more relieved in my life; I have never been so happy to be visible. Quite literally disappearing is not quite as appealing as I once thought.

"You can let go now, princess."

"Huh?" Kenji looks at where my hand has wrapped around his bicep, compensating for his release of my wrist.

I blush profusely, a feeling I have not had in ages. It is almost a nostalgic, albeit embarrassing, feeling.

"Seriously, J. I don't doubt that you are enjoying yourself, but I value my circulation."

I relinquish his arm.

Kenji and I follow the cracked sidewalk, fully aware of how unnecessary it is. Yet, it feels right. Kenji said it best when we first arrived. Nothing in our world is how it used to be, yet, despite that, it feels good to be able to do the small things the right way, the way that we all still yearn to do.

We continue along the path, passing parched grass and cracked cement, innards of ancient cars sprawled at random intervals, caved in ceilings, and ones that are perfectly, suspiciously, intact.

There is no activity. No animals scurry, no bugs scatter. Even the wind is still, leaving the clouds to stagnate in the sky. Every now and then we pass an old Reestablishment poster. Most are torn completely across the middle with frayed edges, though whether this came about through natural wear and tear or rebels it is impossible to know.

With nothing else to occupy my mind, I wonder about Warner. Again. I wonder where he will roam after this. I wonder how long he will be out here today and I wonder what his life will be like when he returns home. I wonder how much of his time my escape has taken up. I must be caught. That will be the Supreme's priority, but surely there are other pressing matters, surely there are things that had occupied the minds of those men while I resided safely in my room on base. I wonder what will become of those things.

I also wonder what Adam could be up to. What did he make of the announcements? What does he do to fill the free hours of his day? Is he all alone in this world? I suppose we are about to find out.

The road becomes more ragged, the pavement heaving from the dust. The houses become sparser. It is no wonder Adam chose to settle here. It lies close enough to civilization that he can provide for himself, but the area surrounding is so rugged it would never come under investigation.

Eventually, Kenji turns onto the lawn of a raised house with white siding. It appears strong enough to withstand any weather, but broken enough to match the ones on either side of it.

Kenji marches directly to the front door, no hesitation in any of his movements.

"Oh Kent," He singsongs, drawing out Adam's last name so it hangs in the air. He proceeds to pound on the door to no particular tune. _So he's one of those people…_

We hear noise- soft padding primarily, but also a sharp crash- from the other side of the door. Kenji waits impatiently, his hands across his chest, his foot tapping, his eyes already rolling themselves at me.

"Can you _believe_ this guy?"

Kenji steps into the center of the doorway, prepared to pound again. I lean against the siding, reveling in the faint familiarity. My fingers trace the rough paneling and my feet scrape the splintering wood. It is so strange to be here. The base was never anything short of pristine and flawless. It was like an alternative universe where cracks did not exist, a world where the only thing broken was myself. Walking through the ruins had the opposite effect. Nothing remained that was pure, untarnished, unharmed by the evils of the world. But here, against this siding that has lasted years against the unpredictable weather and the relentless bombings, standing on the crumbling wood, it is the most perfect harmony. The time-honored combination of new innovation and old tried and true methods. Displayed perfectly in this modest home is the exact lesson our government needs to learn. Things can be perfectly imperfect. Things can break and still have value. Nothing lasts forever. And that is fine.

The noise finally ends and the door swings violently open, the barrel of a gun greeting us.

"Woah, woah. Now Kent, is that anyway to treat guests?" Kenji's suave personality never ceases to amaze me. I am a ball of nerves, the loose ends residing in my stomach, sparking at every little bump in the road. Right now they might very well be on fire.

" _Kenji?_ What the he-"

By now he has stepped through the threshold of his home. I am no longer leaning, but I realize I never moved into Adam's line of vision when he answered the door. I certainly am now. He looks at me as if I am the only thing he can see.

"Juliette?" He steps toward me. "My God, what are you doing here?" I see his heart break, just a little. "What changed?"

I am just about to explain, to pour my heart out and explain who-knows-what with words that are all wrong. _Kenji asked me to go. Kenji had a plan and helpful people to take me to._ I plan to lie if I have to. _Warner cast me out. Warner beats me and pushes me too far._ I am fully prepared to inform Adam that the Supreme has killed me and I am actually a figment of his imagination, a ghost, his guardian angel from heaven, that I have become Satan's right-hand-man in Hell. My mouth opens to tell him anything to avoid the awkwardness that will surely spring upon us when he realizes that not only did I stay with his greatest enemy when Adam offered me an escape, but when I did leave it was with his best friend after having accomplished nothing of what I said I wanted to.

And then Kenji clears his throat and diverts Adam's attention. I think I might love this boy.

Adam raises his eyebrows at him.

"Listen, Kent. I know it is impolite to invite yourself into someone else's house and all that, but we didn't exactly escape from that base on a no-strings-attached kind of basis. So, would you mind letting us come in?"

He pulled Kenji through the doorway, perhaps with a rougher hand than truly necessary, and holds the screen door open for me so I can pass through. I am struck by the interior. It is adorable. There is a small kitchen in one corner and a little living room. Mysterious contraptions that I can only assume make food line counters, blankets are draped across chairs. It looks comfortably lived in. A short hallway darts off to on side. It is tiny, the entirety of Adam's house fitting into two bedrooms back on base. I adore it.

Kenji sprawls across the couch, I notice he kicked off his muddy boots just inside the door and I do the same. I drop tenderly onto the edge of the sofa next to Kenji's long limbs, but it isn't long before I collapse into the cushions. In all the time on the run, I have never been this relaxed. There was never a time where I was positive I was safe. I was always on edge, watching for flashlights, listening for boots or search dogs, or- God forbid- tanks. Now I can finally be calm again.

* * *

"What the hell are you two doing here?"

His gun lies off to one side, not quite forgotten by any of us.

"We are here because we need you," Kenji sounds exactly like the voice that hounded millions of men when this Reestablishment takeover first began. _We need you to join the army. We need you to defend our great country._

Adam doesn't bite. "Neither of you needed me to get off the base. What could you possible want from me now?"

Kenji stands, hands behind his back, and paces the carpet. "I suppose you are right. The fact is that we need each other. You have tools Juliette and myself could never procure for ourselves," Adam blanches at this. I almost feel angry. He left me on base after I broke his heart. We were even, a broken heart for abandonment; this seemed a fair enough trade. But even now, what feels to be an entire lifetime separating the events of then and now, he cannot bring himself to stop loving me. He flinches when anyone else says my name, nearly kills them when they claim myself as their own. How can it be fair that after all that has taken place and all the guilt my mind has tortured itself with he still loves me? How can he be that truly good of a person and how can I keep doing these things to him?

And then I remember how he acted the night he left. He left without saying a word and _laughed_ in my face the next morning. I remember his kindness when we were children, but his actions in my cell. I remember all the things I thought I had forgiven Adam as well as myself for and it feels as if I am bleeding. All the time-healed wounds have torn themselves open again.

It is a major overreaction. A soul broken simply because Adam did not like that I preferred to put my life in Kenji's hands. And could I really blame him? But I do not know. Too many thoughts are racing through my mind. There is no clarification. There is no straightening it out. There is only diving into the real world for a little while before returning to the insanity that only I am privy to. Goddamn this life is hard.

I don't know where I stand with anyone. I don't know who I love and who my friends are. I only know that they have all saved my life and they have all broken me. And I have certainly broken them in return. Sometimes I _like_ the Supreme. At least his hate is pure. At least I know that when I see him next I can expect him to kill me, not kiss me and profess his love. At least I can count on him to be consistent.

My head is pounding.

Kenji is still speaking.

"You see, when you left base by yourself, you might have had a chance. You could have just come here and hid for the rest of your life, do whatever it is when you are in your own company. Sure, Juliette had said no, but you wouldn't have to worry about hiding such a high profile personality. Now, however, we have effectively screwed you over. Your girl here," he jabs his thumb in my direction, "decided it would be a _brilliant_ idea to piss off the Supreme."

Adam glances at me. He raises one eyebrow skeptically.

"So anyway, now we are being hunted."

" _Kenji_ -" Adam's eyes are bulging out of his head.

Kenji's arm raise defensively. "Don't shoot the messenger! I wasn't the one that broke the Supreme."

I blush clear down to the bottom of my toes.

"What did you _do_?"

"Used my touch against the Supreme. Broke his shoulder a little. It's really not a big deal." My arms cross themselves over my chest, evidence of my self-consciousness.

Adam looks flabbergasted. I can hardly blame him. If someone had told me I would do something like that just a year ago I never would have believed them. A lot has changed.

Before he has a chance to react, we hear motion in the room. A tiny voice.

"Adam?"


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's Note: Hello! Musical occupied much of my time the last few months, so, like always, I am sorry for the wait. Summer vacation is in less than a month, so I will have much more time in the near future. The plot will pick up speed pretty soon! Enjoy!**

"James? What are you doing here?"

"I live here," he slowly crosses the room, coming to rest underneath his brother. Adam's hands fall protectively on his small shoulders. "Who are they?"

I feel absurdly self-conscious. How dare I come all this way and just assume that Adam would have room for me? Why did I think that I was the only person in his life? How selfish can one person possibly be?

"They are…" Adam's jaw hangs for while, voicing without words just how ambiguous our relationship is.

"Friends," he finally finishes. "James, I would like you to meet Kenji and...Juliette. Guys, this is my brother James."

" _You're_ Juliette?" His tiny translucent eyes fix on my form, trying to decide what to make of me. Oh, God. What has Adam told him?

My voice fails me on the first try. I clear my throat. "I suppose I am. It is nice to meet you James."

James steps forward and extends his tiny hand. I have swallowed my tongue, all my teeth have fallen out. I'm surprised no one can see them on the floor, contrasting against the dark blue of the carpeting.

"James," Adam admonishes. The words come out like a hiss. Kenji can barely contain his laughter.

"I'm just joking around," James mumbles. "Nice to meet you guys."

He slinks away to a tiny closet about halfway down the hallway. I can only imagine this to be his room and something in me wants to smile. It's nice that James has a place to escape to when the world becomes too much. It's nice to know not all the world has descended into insanity.

"I love that kid." Kenji is smiling his all-consuming smile again, standing to wander the room.

"You have a _brother_?" I barely recognize my own voice as it leaves my mouth. "And you've told him about me?" I realize there are more important matters to discuss. I know that we have an army searching for us as we speak, and the leader of a large portion of humanity reaching for our throats, but all that comes to mind is James and all the things Adam might have told him.

Adam scratches the back of his head, "That was a long time ago." His words have a deeper meaning, one that I am not yet ready to embrace.

"Oh." This is all I can muster. Something inside me desperately wants James to like me. I worry this won't happen if he knows all that I have done.

"So Kent," Kenji jumps back into the conversation. "You in or out?"

"Of what?"

"In case you didn't know, the whole Supreme-wants-our-guts thing doesn't change just because your cute ass brother showed up." Kenji plays with little trinkets here and there in the room. I wonder how Adam came to this place. Was it run down? How much of this was here? Did he have to steal? I want to know how he managed all this.

"What do you expect me to do, Kenji? Just pack up and leave? For years we have been safe here. I don't think I can give up that certainty." He looks around, his eyes claiming everything with a strange possessiveness.

"How could you two do this?" Adam turns on me now, his tone icy. "How could you be so stupid? You've put so many lives at stake," He's getting close now, his eyes burning despite their cool nature.

" _My_ life was at stake, Adam! I thought I was helping." I can barely breathe, my thoughts getting caught in my throat. I don't want to argue with him, not again, but his tone is riling up my rebellious side.

"You were helping yourself. Then, when it went bad, you couldn't bear to take the heat for it. No, you had to escape and travel all across this land, bringing terror across the people in your wake!"

I feel like I've been shot in the chest. Involuntarily, I step back. Kenji's arm hugs me close to his chest in a gesture that shocks me. He shields me from the words that have already cut me to the core.

"That's not right, Kent, and you know it. Taking the heat would have meant dying. You can't ask that of her. You can't ask that of anyone." The world is spinning around me. I hate this. I hate Adam for accusing me of things. I hate myself for being guilty. Most of all, I hate myself for crumbling under the pressure. All that I want to accomplish in life, all my ambitions and none of them are possible because I cry when I am met with a challenge.

"The lives!" He keeps pushing, shouting now, "The innocent lives she put-"

"That's enough, Kent!" Kenji says, his voice husky. The power is shocking. "Juliette was doing what she thought she had to do. The only thing she could do to survive was attack him. Truly it was only a matter of time." I don't know how much Kenji actually believes this, but I'm thankful for his words nonetheless. "The lives at stake are nothing we take lightly, but neither is Juliette's life. I'm not one to judge your priorities, Kent. It's a messed up world we live in, but were you not just as willing to put lives at risk to escape when Juliette was your girl?"

I stare at Kenji in amazement. For the realist that he is, he is kind when he sees injustice. Still, the guilt builds in me. I came here with great aspirations. Kenji took me away with the intent of escaping, the thought of fighting back always in the back of my mind. All this time, though, all I have been doing is running. Adam is right. I don't save people, I just hurt them.

Adam does not appreciate this. He is seething, shaking with anger. I consider leaving. If Kenji and I walk out, just leave right now, perhaps everything will go back to the way it used to be, at least for Adam. Before I can do anything, I see Adam move toward the door. I fear he will kick us out, despite the fact that I was just about to do that to myself. Then he leaves. He walks out the door and leaves Kenji and I standing there, pale in the face. And this is somehow worse.

I start after him, am just about to yell his name, when Kenji pulls me back into his side.

"It's alright, J. Just let him go."

"But-"

Kenji jerks his head toward the makeshift bedroom.

"Everything he needs is here. He'll be back."

"Thank you, Kenji." I smile genuinely. It's nice to have someone back on my side. I give in and hug him, working hard to avoid any spots of bare skin. I find myself missing Warner more than ever, but I can't think about him right now. I just hug my friend and tell myself that everything will work out.

We separate and sit back down on Adam's sofa. I feel like an invader, but I have no other choice. I might as well decide my next move from a warm, comfortable place.

The door squeaks open across the room. James peeks out like a little mouse. "Where did Adam go?"

Fortunately, Kenji is a quick-thinker. What I can do to thank him for saving my ass so many times, I will never know.

"He went out for firewood."

James gets a peculiar look on his face. This kid is no fool. "He's coming back, right?" I see the tears begin to form. How many times has he given up his brother for the sake of their safety? How many nights has he spent alone? Adam, to my knowledge, hadn't left base in all the time that I was there, plus the time we spent in the cell and all that leading up to it. Leaving his kid brother alone for six months at a time...I cannot imagine.

I find myself running to his side, "Oh, of course he is sweetheart. He is collecting sticks so we can…"

I turn to Kenji, having stuck my foot in my mouth once again.

"Make s'mores!"

The little boy's face could brighten the whole world the way it lights up. From his bag, Kenji miraculously produces a small plastic bag of marshmallows, holding them up for James' inspection.

"I love you guys!" He reaches his tiny arms out to surround my waist, careful not to touch my skin, but innocently unafraid. Hesitantly, I reach for him too, thankful for his long sleeved shirt. He races off to Kenji soon after, allowing me to clean the tears from my face in peace. Adam once told me I was the only good thing left in the world. He was so blinded by love that he missed the best pure thing of them all. James.

He inserts himself in Kenji's lap and reaches for a marshmallow, but Kenji insists he wait until Adam comes back. I watch the two of them. That warm, fuzzy feeling of home spreads itself through my limbs. It feels almost like a little family, the three of us. Kenji and James could be brothers, despite their obvious differences. They take to one another so fast that no one would ever guess they are perfect strangers.

In the middle of the warmth I feel a pang. I will never be able to do that. I will never be able to make those bonds that can only be formed through touch.

I suppose I have made those connections with Adam, but something tells me he is no hurry to return to us.

 _Warner_ …

But there is so much space between us now. However he might have felt before I left base, he has had plenty of time to get it out of his head. Plenty of time for his father to wipe it from his mind.

Beyond that, Warner is impossible to decipher. The farther I get from base, the more I am able to take a step back from everything that happened there. There were so many emotions with so many erratic events bringing those feelings to light. Everything was abrupt and yet everything seemed planned to perfection. Now that my mind is calm, or, rather, now that my mind is insane with different things, it is easy to remember all that transpired. I think of the dance, sweet and gentle, but always with his father's eyes trailing us. The simple kiss we shared that night waltzes through memory.

This is where I begin to argue with myself.

The cautious part reminds me that it felt rushed and mistimed, like a band-aid over a bullet wound.

My ever-optimistic side says that though it was quick, it was indicative of Warner's feelings for me.

These arguments persist, never relenting to the other side. My own logic is warring itself. Suddenly it hits me that I don't even know my own feelings. How could I possibly begin to guess at Warner's?

I see myself falling for him, had I stayed with him. If I hadn't left I might have succumb to his 'loves' and his various other endearments. Unfortunately, it is out here that I am discovering myself. It is out here that I find myself uninfluenced by anyone else's opinions. Finally, I know what is important to me. I know how to set goals for my own life because I know where I stand, and it doesn't matter where others want me to stand.

Warner let me be who I want to be, but he has only ever known me in captivity, and I have only known him as a controlling leader. Neither of us knows who the other really is. Truly, neither of us know ourselves either. Perhaps one day we will find out.

In the warmth and comfort of the one place I have felt safe in forever, I begin to drift off. It is a dreamless slumber, and one that is well-deserved in my opinion. I can only hope that when I wake up Adam will be back and everything will be fine.

Soft murmurings from the kitchen wake me up. I reach my arms over my head, my elbows and shoulders cracking from the movement. I feel surprisingly calm. My eyes flicker around me, remembering that I am in Adam's house. I still cannot make myself believe that a place like this exists in the same world as the cell from which I came.

My attention turns to the noise. The boys are huddled around the tiny kitchen table, smiling and laughing at some joke I must have missed in my sleep. To my chagrin, Adam is back. Chocolate stains their mouths and one lone marshmallow remains on the plate between them.

I wonder what they are discussing. I'm tempted to close my eyes and listen, but James spots me too soon.

"You're awake! Here!" he rushes over, offering me the plate. As I take the last marshmallow, I want to cry all over again.

"Are you sure?"

He nods and dumps the plate in the sink. I long for a family. Despite the brokenness of my own, I wish more than anything that I could know the companionship that Adam and James have. I have found great friends, I have found relationships that I don't want to lose, but I will never know the father-daughter bond that leads grown men to threaten the innocent teenage boys who take their little girl out on dates. I will never have a little sister to paint toenails with. I accepted this long ago. I even acknowledged that my parents have likely moved on, disposed of their broken child and had a new, whole family. Even so, it hurts to picture.

The best I can do now is make sure that no child feels the way I felt. Adam and James have lit a fire in me that I didn't know had gone out. Protecting the innocents and leading them from tyranny, that was always the goal. Such a noble cause with enough challenges to last me two lifetimes, but more than that, I want to protect the families. They are the base of every civilization and our government undermines them at every turn. I will take down the Supreme, ambitious as that may sound, and I will restore families.

As these thoughts flit their way across my mind, Adam begins setting up blankets and sleeping bags for the night. Adam gives me the couch, eliciting angry remarks from Kenji. At first, I tried to refuse, insisting that it wasn't fair and I was fine on the floor, but one glance from Adam shut me up. We didn't need anymore arguments tonight.

I outlast both the boys, but it doesn't take long for me to drift off. Swaddled in blankets that smell like Adam, like home instead of like military-grade detergent, and lulled by the soft snores of my companions, my mind floats away.

My dreams are filled with sweet moments. The few that I have had in my life surface, including the newest one bestowed upon my memory by James. I remember a time in my living room when I was young, my power not yet discovered. My family was happy once. Surprisingly, even a flash or two of Warner sneaks in. The human mind is strange like that, finding a glimmer of happiness when the eyes see nothing but a bleak future. It is peaceful. There is no plot to my dream, nothing to be accomplished, just the ebb and flow of memories, moving like a stream across my subconscious.

Some part of me even knows that I am asleep, but it doesn't matter. For the moment there is no fear here or in the real world. No reason to disturb the only real sleep I have had in years, so I let myself relax, awash in nostalgia.


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's Note: Here is a super long chapter! As always, sorry for the long wait. At this point, the story is making itself a little long-winded, so I do have a conclusion coming soon. I'm not sure how many chapters that will be quite yet, but I will keep you all up-to-date, I promise. Thank you for continuing to support this story, despite my inconsistency with updating. I truly appreciate it.**

The peace does not last.

It is around 3:00 in the morning by my best estimation. Raining is pelting the roof, and thunder is rumbling through the sky above. My mind is brought back to awareness by the sound of boots. They pound, far away, but many. There is the sound of crushed gravel, likely being displaced by a tank. Metal clanks against metal in jarring contrast to my tranquil dreams.

My mind is groggy and slow. I hadn't slept that well in so long. I sit up slowly, wondering if I had imagined the sounds. A moment of blessed silence convinces me to lay down again.

I nearly fall off the couch when the lights swing through the window and splay across the wall. I scramble across the floor, scraping my knees in the process. Blindly, my hands run across the floor, searching for Adam and Kenji. Finally, I locate a leg. Unsure of the owner, I crawl my way up to where I imagine the face is.

"Hey!" I am starting to panic. My legs want to run. My breath is dragging through my throat. I cannot tell the difference between boot-clad footfalls and my own heartbeat.

"Wake UP!" I whisper-shout, tapping the side of the still-hidden face.

"What?!" All of a sudden the eyes are open and slicing through me. Even pure darkness cannot hide Adam's eyes. He tries to sit up, responding to my orders as immediately as a soldier would. Using what little strength I have, I shove him back down. If their lights are close enough to shine in the window, surely they would see us stand.

I hold a finger to my lips, hushing him, and point to the door. He waits for a heartbeat, then his eyes go wide. He rolls over and speed-crawls his way to James's room. I bump Kenji's foot next, using the same method I had used with Adam.

I try to move quickly. I try to move silently. I try to be the ninja that Kenji has been training me to be, but in the moment I feel about as lithe as a rhino. My friend greets me with a, "Go away," but, much the same as Adam, reacts quickly once I get him to focus.

He shoots up off the floor, grabbing his pack as quickly as possible and tossing me mine. A flash of movement makes us both jump. Adam is ushering us and a sleepy James into the hallway. We enter James's room and I notice a window in the corner.

 _Our salvation._

How long has it been since the soldiers arrived? Why haven't they come in yet?

Have they surrounded the house?

 **My mind searches for a distraction, anything to calm my pounding heart.**

 _One, two, three…_

Adam shoves the window out of its frame. We all share a cringe as it hits the ground outside. The fit through this window looks tight. I makes me feel claustrophobic just looking at it. Fear surges through my when I wonder how the boys will manage. Silently, Adam points to me. _You first,_ he mouths.

I don't hesitate. Until I see the drop. The house is high, the drop seemingly endless, only a little smaller than the plunge I took to get off the base. This time there is no one to catch me.

Adam hoists me by my waist and puts my feet through the window, balancing me on the windowsill. The boots are getting closer. I cannot do this I cannot do this I cannot do this. I don't have a choice. Adam leans into my ear, his voice just a whisper. _Focus, Juliette._ I am losing myself. I am losing his instruction. We will all die tonight.

"Jump. Bend your knees. Tuck and roll if you need to," I let out all the air in my body. I brace myself between the walls and will myself to let go. With time running out, with so much uncertainty, I might just vomit, with my life at stake, I push off the wall. I nearly miss Adam's final instruction, "Catch James at the bottom."

His last sentence throws me off. My arms whirl through the air and it is a struggle to keep my feet together as I fall. The bottom of my stomach drops out. Briefly, I remember hearing about rides that people used to go on to give them this feeling _on purpose._ Surely people of the past must have been insane. I hit hard. My knees absorb most of the shock, but sharp pain shoots through my right ankle. _Not broken. Not broken. Please don't be broken._

The air rushes back to my system as I finally take another breath. _Pounding, pounding, so many footsteps._ Vehicles of all types and enough boots for three armies by the sound of it. They are coming closer.

 _Three hundred twenty-eight….three hundred twenty-nine…._

 _Catch James._

I turn around again and look up. Rain flies into my eyes. I am already soaked through to my skin. The drop looks even bigger from the bottom. He looks so small, so fragile. My arms are slippery. I am terrified until I see one large tear roll down his face. He is just a kid. Guilt consumes me. I brought this wrath down upon him. I made this world unsafe. I am the most sought after person right now. And I have brought all of this into the life of this poor child.

I steel myself. I will protect him if it is the last thing I do. If the Supreme catches us, Adam, Kenji, and I are all dead. We are traitors to his regime, and we have already lived too long for his taste. But James dying for our mistakes? Inexcusable. James becoming a soldier for those horrible people? Not an option. James losing his big brother before he even gets to know him? Impossible.

It is in that moment that the world solidifies around me. The ground is rigid under my feet, which are planted firmly in the grass. The universe may not be fair, but I am strong enough to handle it. I have to be. I am just a person, and Kenji and Adam are just people, but so is the Supreme. He has his soldiers, but if they are anything like these boys I have surrounded myself with, we should have no trouble plucking them from his grasp. We can do this. I can win this, I just have to take it one step at a time, beginning with catching this child.

And I do. He arms whirl around his head and his hair flutters in the breeze. Adam must have given him instruction, though, because he is easy to catch. I am still counting. He lands squarely in my arms as soon as I hit 500. We are both shaking, but we smile at each other and let out silent laughs. I place James on his feet, but he stays near my legs. His presence is so comforting. As long as he is here, I have a purpose for all these insane acts.

Soundlessly, his brother and Kenji drop to the ground. For one lost second, we all stand there, smiling like idiots at one another in the silence of the night.

 _The silence._

I grip Adam's arm hard and point in the general direction of the road. _Why is it so damn dark out here?_ "They are gone," I mouth. I feel hopeful. I know I shouldn't. Life never offered me lucky moments before. Why start now?

Just as I suspected, Adam shakes his head. "This road is a dead end," he says, his breath warming my frozen face. "They will double back soon. We have to run."

He pulls James onto his back and the kid locks his arms around Adam's neck. Adam starts a jog, moving silently through the dewy grass. I have to run to keep up, my feet slipping under me. I think of stories I used to hear about my classmates sneaking out of their houses late at night, avoiding being caught by their parents. If only they could see me now, playing a much deadlier version of their favorite game.

Adam crosses the road, all of us in tow. I can see lights in the distance. Warner's men. The water distorts their flashlights. Puddles reflect shards of light into my eyes. Rain pours thick into my eyes again as we run directly into the wind. Everything is in extremes. The night is black as pitch, the light is silver and refracts everywhere. It looks like shattered glass. It looks like a night that will live in my mind as the worst of my life.

We snake through the dilapidated houses I remember from before. We turn into a backyard. It is overgrown and the moment we step into the foliage we sink in the mud. Adam has beaten me into the yard, impatient to find whatever he has hidden here. An engine turns over once...twice...three times. Then the slew of curse words begin.

"Shit!"

"What is it, Kent?" Kenji's voice is stable, prepared to troubleshoot any situation.

" _Damn, damn, damn!"_ He keeps yelling profanities. He pounds on the car's dashboard just as I emerge from behind an overgrown tree.

"I tried so hard." His voice sounds terrifyingly defeated. "I planned so many escapes, spent so make sleepless nights making plans to keep us safe. _Damn it!"_

"Kent, it's alright." Kenji walks up, rests his hand gently on his shoulder. James is trying to keep up with the conversation, but he is drenched and cold and exhausted. His eyelids are drooping.

I pull him to the back of the car while the boys rethink their plan. We can at least be out of the rain. I notice the gas tank is empty, the source of all the trouble. The ground around us is shiny with rainbows of gasoline. Based on the amount of mud caked to the wheels, my guess is that we wouldn't have gotten anywhere in this car anyway. We never had a chance.

We all catch our breath. It unnerves me that Adam and Kenji have left me out of the discussion, but I am too stressed to care. Finally, they turn back to us.

"We have to steal one of their tanks."

It is a simply enough statement. We all know we cannot do it. We all know there is no other way. They begin to collaborate on a plan. They will both locate a tank, one will run as a distraction to lure the soldiers away, and the other will steal the vehicle and rescue us. There is one problem, however. Being a distraction is suicide. One of us will not last the night.

Adam and Kenji must have friends in this army, people they know and trust. But there is no loyalty tonight. Those friends will be mercilessly shooting at them. I cannot imagine their pain. I think of all those faces I saw that morning when Warner pulled me out onto the rooftop. I wonder just how many have been deployed to hunt for us.

 _Warner…_

I gasp aloud. "Warner."

Both Adam and Kenji gape at me, their teeth shining through the night.

"What was that, princess?"

"We have to find Warner," I say. "He will help us. He can get us a tank. I have to get to him."

Adam is appalled. I am already in motion, resting James gently against the seat and reaching for the door handle.

" _What?_ Juliette, are you insane?" Adam is blocking the handle with his hand, trying to catch my eyes with his. "I don't think you understand just how _dangerous_ this is."

My jaw clenches. We have no time left to argue. The sky will lighten soon and we will be done for.

"Warner will help me. He hates his father as much as the rest of us. He helped us get off base. I'm sure he will protect us."

Adam's eyes burn through the night. He rubs his hand across his forehead. "He will protect _you_ , Juliette. If you recall, he isn't particularly fond of me."

"But he didn't come after you when you left either. This is our one chance."

"Juli-"

"She's right, Kent."

Kenji's abrupt entrance makes us both jump. "Warner _did_ help us escape the base. He is a complicated guy. Crazy as he is, we can't predict how he might react. It's worth a shot," Adam is gaping. Kenji continues before he can argue. "Besides, creepy as it is, he sure is taken with our princess."

I blush through the night, surprised that I don't light up like a firefly.

"And just how do you plan to find him? He will be surrounded by soldiers." Raindrops drip from his chin and splatter themselves on us all as he fights to be heard.

"I'll keep running until I do. Even if I don't find Warner, one of his men will find me and deliver me to him."

"Juliette, those soldiers are-" Adam clears his throat awkwardly. "Very...deprived...of female interaction. You cannot know what they will do before they take you to him. Besides, you have enemies in much higher places. What if they deliver you to the Supreme instead?"

I glance at James, so innocent in his sleep. He deserves better than this. He deserves more than this Hell that I have brought to his life. He deserves a whole new world. I am going to deliver it to him.

"It would be worth it. If I find Warner, no matter how, we will be able to escape. He _will_ help. And, if they take me to the Supreme…" I pause, swallow, make my peace with my decision, then speak. "I want you to run."

I leave James, Adam, and Kenji huddled inside the car. They are hesitant to let me go alone, but we have no other choice. The more of us there are in the streets, the more likely it is that one of them will be captured and killed before we can get to Warner. I am the only one he wants alive. I am the only one that can take the risk.

Somewhere in the middle of our argument, Warner's men doubled back through the neighborhood. They are everywhere. Flashlights scan every surface. Adam and Kenji squeeze themselves onto the floor of the car while James lays flat on the seat.

I get out, feeling a strong desire to return to the safety. I need to be strong. I will be strong for my new friends. My new family. I jog, a ninja-like as I can, through the unkempt grass and flatten against the brick of the house. Luckily, the soldiers vacated this street quickly, just trying to get through the night and back to base.

I sprint back the way I came, this time toward the lights instead of away. My heart is racing and my stomach is plummeting, and not because of the exertion. I left the car hoping for a clear path to Warner. I hoped he would split himself from the group, but his advisors don't seem to be letting that happen. The soldiers travel in groups that are all about the same size, making them impossible to differentiate. I contemplate looking for the man wearing the expensive suit, but something tells me Warner would never risk an outfit like that.

I dart forward, clinging to the shadows. Travelling along the backs of houses, I ease around the side of each one, studying the faces in each crowd intently. The soldiers remain huddled together, complaining, but still laughing on occasion. Relief makes its way into my heart. They are more socializing than searching.

Moving from group to group, I expect at every moment for a blond head to peek out of the crowd, for those blue eyes to find my and sweep me away. All I see are the same old fatigues and heavy boots. All I see is the same haircut repeated over and over on all the faces I spy. None of these men will rescue me.

Despair starts to drag me down. There are claws inside my stomach. They rip me apart from my throat to my intestines. I am exhausted and beaten down by this weather. I imagine the boys, all crammed into that car, trying to be brave for one another, and I can't help but feel hopeless and so, so guilty for dragging them down with me.

My heart yearns to find Warner, for myself, for James and Adam and Kenji, for all of us who have been so cheated by this life. But the sky gets lighter at every second and I'm not sure how much longer I can squeeze between house. My arms are scraped from the trees and the brick. My knees feel broken from countless falls. My heart is bleeding from the hope that was ripped from its grip.

I am mustering up the courage to give up, trying to figure out how I can bring myself to return to my friends without an escape. Then, finally, just as the sun is reaching the horizon, a hand taps my shoulder. I turn around, ignorance painting my smile from ear to ear. In my head, I'm already saved. Warner is here. Those are his arms around my shoulders. That is his strength that is carrying me away. He is taking me somewhere warm and dry. Away from this hellish night.

But, as I spin in his arms, I lose my last bit of faith in humanity. My heart is gone from me. My blood is ice cold.

This soldier is dark haired, has dark eyes, thin lips. And he is most certainly not saving me. He drags me toward the synthetic light of the army. We trample through thorns and bushes. He drags me along behind him like a rag doll. My mind still wants to believe that this is Warner. I cannot find the strength to battle any longer.

Until I hear his voice. Harsh and oh, so loud in my ear.

"I have her! I caught the girl!"

He sounds so proud. This man is so happy to have ruined my life. He knows what will happen to me if he takes me back to that heathen that is our Supreme Commander, and he doesn't care. All he can comprehend is how we will be rewarded. I hate this voice.

With one last burst of energy, I claw at the fabric covering my skin, tearing it away from any place I can reach. He keeps his hands clamped on my upper arms. Too caught up in his success, he underestimates this little girl in his arms. I begin to tear at his clothing too, ripping buttons and breaking seams. A morbid chuckle leaves my lips when I imagine what we must look like to onlookers. He doesn't care. All of it can be fixed or replaced. He will get to return to his warm, dry bed soon enough. This is merely a chapter in his life, which is why I have to keep moving.

In seconds, I have the sleeves torn off my shirt, entire strips of fabric missing from both our torsos. I have no idea if it will be enough. But I have to try. I push away frantically. He counters by pulling my small body toward him. At the peak of his efforts, I let all the energy drain from my body. His arms can't compensate in time and they pull me into him and send us both crashing to the ground. My bare skin crashes into his as we fall. I squirm, trying to expose as much of my deadly skin as possible. The feeling is so freeing, so different from what I've done all my life. My naked arms wrap around this skin of his torso. I bury my exposed face in his neck. Above all, I pray to any god that may choose to take pity on my poor life that I can make it through this.

It is enough. His body goes stiff, my body floods with power, and we take a simultaneous breath. I hold my hands against his face for just a moment longer for good measure. Still caught between the two houses, it takes some time for the other soldiers to realize what has happened. It is in this time that I make my escape. I fly back into the small space, pushing through as much of the brush as I can and trampling the rest. I make erratic twists and turns, hoping to throw them off my track.

My legs move faster than they ever have. I pass houses and buildings off all kinds, not bothering to cover my tracks. I just need to get back to that car. I just need to find my friends.

All my half-baked plans are ruined as I am caught by another pair of strong arms. They pull me off course. My feet no longer touch the ground. All the air is rushing out of my lungs and I realize just how tired I am. I can't fight anymore. My head falls back onto the shoulder of my enemy. I think about James and Kenji and Adam. I hope that they can get away. I hope that my sacrifice will be enough and infinitely wish that there was something else I could do for them.

I wonder how I will die. I can only hope that this soldier is merciful. That he will take me to Warner or kill me on the spot. My legs give out.

Tears spring to my face. All this. So much progress made for it all to be taken away. I escaped. I made it. How can it all be crushed in one night?

One last word slips through my lips before my demise, "Aaron."

"Love."

Somewhere inside me, my body goes into a frenzy. I must be losing my mind.

" _Juliette_." My forehead scrunches. The voice gets louder. There are several now, one soothing, the rest demanding and harsh. My body is still pressed against my captor. He seems to realize this and lays me down on the hard concrete. I fight to keep my eyes open, but my brain has made other plans. The voices are getting louder. The spit all kinds of words I once understood, but cannot comprehend in this state.

"I have her." This phrase, repeated from just seconds ago, crushes me. "I will bring her back. Return to base."

This voice, the closest one to me. It is so dark. So authoritative. So familiar.

 _Love._ The word, whispered in my ear just moments ago. _Love love love._

I shoot up, exhaustion be damned. My head swirls. My eyes have black spots and refuse to focus, but they finally catch the crystalline eyes. My hands are clumsy, but they finally sink themselves into the golden locks. My voice is gravelly, but still it chokes out, "Aaron."

"Aaron, you have to help me."

"Of course, love. Of course."


	25. Chapter 25

**Author's Note: Et voila! Another chapter. Let me know what you think about this one! I definitely have at least one more chapter coming out. I only have one more written, but the way my writing/editing generally goes, that could easily turn into two or three. Thank you all for your support, it's really amazing to me.**

Within five minutes Warner has acquired a tank. Collapsed on a seat beside him, I direct Warner back through the streets I tore through last night, struggling to recall the twists and turns I made in my haste. All the soldiers cleared out quickly, but they left their mark. Boot prints preserved in mud, any remaining windows shattered, and any remnants of civilization dragged out and trampled in the streets. When I passed through this community the first time, with Kenji, I thought the scene was as heartbreaking as it could get. I was wrong.

The morning is finally light, the sunrise spreading across the horizon. I realize I've come to live sunrise to sunrise. Each one promises new things, and a new chance to make a change. This one gives me the most hope of all. The sun has finally risen above the buildings. It is casting its strong light on the ruined Earth. Steam rises gently from the ground, as if the sun has had enough of the rain and the carnage. The dirt at the edge of the road is returning to a light brown, but the yards are still puddled with water. The leaves are perking back up, no longer being pelted and held down by water. The sun is reflecting off of everything, leaving spots in my vision.

"It's going to be a lovely day," Warner says conversationally.

"It better be," I reply. "It rained enough last night to last me a lifetime." I emphasize this last point by squeezing the water out of my shirt. We are both sitting in puddles, the rain water streaming off of us, though Warner is significantly drier than I.

"I would offer again, but-"

"I would say no. Tempting as your offer is, the last thing I need is to hear Kenji's smartass comments first thing this morning."

Warner keeps offering me his suit coat, which somehow managed to stay dry underneath his jacket. My heart aches to take it. I am sick of being cold, and I feel swept up in his kindness. It is unlike anything I have ever known. Adam was sweet, but it was hard for him to make grand gestures like this. Kenji always told me to suck it up when I was cold. Or made other, more suggestive, suggestions.

And Aaron….

Aaron was always about his duty, and I was always pushing him away. I still have my doubts sometimes, but only now do I realize just how strongly I longed for him while on the run. Maybe out here...we can be different. Maybe he will open up and I will relax and we can both be free. We can both find our birds.

 _But,_ I interrupt myself, _Kenji is already unbearable. No need to fuel that fire._

I smile to myself when I think of my best friend. I miss him already. The night had been a long one without his ever-excited presence.

Warner fails to understand the attraction. His knuckles turn white on the steering wheel and his right hand reaches for my clammy left. _God, I missed this._

"He'll learn to watch his mouth now that I am around."

"He's not that bad," I say, trying to diffuse the situation. "I need someone to pick on me every now and then."

Warner nods his head and lets the moment pass, his knuckles returning to a normal skin color. To my satisfaction, his hand remains in mine. His fingers are so warm around mine. I'm so glad he left his gloves behind. And mine.

Then, without any warning, my mouth makes a decision my brain did not approve.

"I missed you, Aaron."

I keep my eyes locked on the road, hardly believing that these words just escaped my lips. For a moment I want to bow my head in shame, my old self-deprecating habits coming back to me. I want to count. 10 fingers, 20 including the ones laced in mine, seven colors in the rainbows that are appearing everywhere- Then I remember how much I've changed, how much I've gone through in these last few days. It's time to be honest with myself. In order to want better things for the world, I need to first want better things for myself. And I do.

This one sentence is a small step, but one that somehow reconciles our past. I am able, for the first time, to compartmentalize our time together. I can smile at Warner's closet full of dresses just for me. I can bury myself in the memory of him doing my hair. I think back to my fear when I realized that I could touch him without consequence. Even our awkward, rushed, sleep-deprived kiss makes me smile. Pride in how far I've come is like a warm blanket. It engulfs me, puts me at peace with myself, shields me from the storm to come.

My eyes find Aaron sitting completely still, trying to tame a dopey smile. His eyes blaze in the morning light and I wish I could trap their color. I wish I could use it to paint over everything that is wrong with the world. My eyes flash to a ring on his finger, detailed in the same color. I touch it playfully, moving it in circles around his finger, passing the seconds before he responds.

He squeezes my hand, " I missed you, too, love."

The smile on my face matches his for a split second before I realize where we are.

"Turn here, then stop in front of this house." I blurt out as we nearly pass the turn off.

Warner follows my directions. I hazard a glance at the face of the house, second guessing my memory. Everything looks so different in the day. I know it is the right one, though, and we both jump out. I lead him through the weeds. I do my best to hold the branches out of his way, but he's so tall most of them hit him anyway. We each end up with our share of scratches by the time we get through the foliage.

In a sudden, playful mood, Aaron dives forward just as I am about to make my way through the ankle-deep mud. He scoops me up into his arms and carries me over the puddles and toward the car. He spins us around, causing bubbles of laughter to emerge from my stomach. My hair whirls out around us, glimmering in the sunlight. He finally sets me down next to the vehicle, my dizziness causing me to lean heavily on his chest. The laughter continues. Warner even releases a few laughs of his own. It's so nice to see him off base, where he can finally be himself…

"Juliette? Is that you?" A small voice causes me to spin around rapidly. My head whirls and Warner has to put his hands on my waist to steady me. James' face is sticking out of a window in the back seat of the beat up car. Through the front window, I can see Adam, still sleeping, in the passenger seat. I greet James with a small smile, wondering if he got any sleep last night. The circles under his eyes are concerning.

"It's about damn time-" comes Kenji's familiar drawl. His eyes nearly pop out of his skull when he registers our closeness. A blush springs to my cheeks.

"Well, well, well," he says, "What do we have here?" His eyes venture downward to my suspiciously tattered clothing. I consider explaining just how I tore them, but I know it's futile.

My heart fills with joy at the sight of them all, safe. I step away from Warner, moving to rouse Adam. Aaron reluctantly releases my waist. He crosses his arms over his chest in a move that I know too well. He isn't amused by my choice in friends. Maneuvering my way around the car, I pull on the handle, but Kenji leans across and holds the door shut. "What's the rush, princess? He can sleep for just a second longer…"

That cocky smile in full view now, my mind races to come up with a smart response. I even consider slapping him, just a little, but, upholding his promise from earlier, Warner beats me to it.

"Kishimoto!"

Kenji's head snaps to Warner, his body tries to come to attention before he realizes he's been betrayed by his own reflexes. Warner quirks his mouth into a smile of his own and says, "Let the girl be."

Kenji climbs almost drunkenly out of the car, hopefully the result of some much-needed sleep.

"Well, I see you haven't changed, Warner." He turns to me, "Princess, are you certain we need this guy?"

"Considering 'this guy' is saving our collective ass, I would say yes, we do."

I shake Adam awake while Kenji stretches his limbs, finally out of comments. James hops out of the car and into the sticky mud. It sucks at his shoes and he crumples his nose at it. Then, just as Adam clears his eyes, the world moves in slow motion before mine. James tries to unstick his shoes, an act that throws him off balance. He lurches forward into a splintery fence at the edge of the yard. Before I can command Warner to catch him, James brings his hand down. Directly onto a nail. I can practically hear the skin tearing, hear his heart pumping his blood out. James' breath catches. Quickly, Warner helps him regain his balance. Blood drips off his hand and into the grass. The gash is an inch and a half long and dizzyingly deep. I want to cry.

In an instant, Warner's authoritative voice takes over, "We have to take him back to the truck. There are medical supplies there."

I can see him working through every scenario already. He is accounting for a potential infection, deciding if the boy will need stitches, and has almost scooped him off his feet.

"No! Don't worry about it." James smiles, eager to reassure us. The four of us just stare with horrified faces. The smile flickers out and his eyebrows crease. James' brain is moving a million miles an hour to understand our concern, and we are doing just the opposite. Unsure of how to proceed, he locks eyes with Warner.

"Hi!" He says jovially. "My name is James." He thrusts out a hand covered in dried blood, completely forgetting the injury marring it.

Warner gasps at the sight before him. Lightning fast, his hands reach out and grasp James' tiny one. James grunts a little.

"Hey!"

From somewhere over my shoulder Adam is surging forward, demanding that Warner unhand his little brother. Kenji is remaking that he knew Warner hadn't changed, despite his complete trust in him last night. My mind is already trying to mediate the situation. Unfortunately, one tiny girl is no match for three soldiers.

Before any of us can get to him, Warner angles James' hand toward us, saying, "Look!"

We all rush forward, expecting the worst. Adam has pushed Aaron out of the way, Kenji is standing over his shoulder, and I am forgotten entirely. The mud sucks me down, but Aaron pulls me back out. Shoving Kenji out of my way, I find myself face to face with a very confused 10-year-old, and a flabbergaster Adam. Finally, my eyes lock on the astonishing sight. James has a tiny, pink, slightly scabbed scar lining the center of his palm. It looks like he cut it months ago. I grasp his clothed arm as gently as I can in my panic and flip it over, searching desperately for the injury. There is blood everywhere, some dried, some still dripping from his fingertips, but all flowing from the scar on his palm. He was bleeding profusely just seconds ago. And now he is entirely healed.

"Jesus Christ!" Kenji exclaims. Adam shoves him in response.

"What? I told you not to worry about it." James looks from his palm up to our faces. His lips tremble a little, trying to figure out why we look like he just invented fire.

"This doesn't happen to you guys?"

"Hell, no!" Kenji exclaims, earning him another dirty glance from Adam. "Sonya and Sara and going to adore you, kid."

"Who?"

"James," Adam butts in, "Have you always healed like this?"

"Not always. I've been getting better at it. What's going on?"

My mind whirls. Pieces of information fly by my head all at once. Some are memories, some are things I discovered for myself throughout the years. I remember the first time I caused someone pain. It was my mother. It was just a little shock, but it got me locked in my room. By the time I was forgiven, I had gained enough strength to kill a small child. And then I did. It developed over time, always present, but not always strong. Never within my control, but always there for me to use. This is it. I'm not nearly as alone in this world as I thought.

"James has a power."

The astonishment returns again, this time centering on me. "This is how it started with me. I had a few incidents here and there, never quite sure what was happening. Then, after the day at the supermarket, it was always there, right under my skin."

"Will someone tell me what's going on?" James' voice is childlike again. He must be terrified. I know I was. All those doctors, all those police officers, all of them talking about me as if I were an animal and not a human being. Poor James. I lean down to comfort him, I intend to explain what is happening and to tell him it is a good thing, but I loose the words before my mouth can form them. Adam and Warner are at a similar loss for words. Adam looks dumbfounded, amazed that he has known his brother all his life and never realized he has a gift.

He makes eye contact with me, his thoughts racing. "I had no idea."

"There was no way you could have. Don't worry," I say, my hand on his shoulder, "it seems his ability is the exact opposite of mine. He'll be just fine."

Adam nods, but his jaw remains set.

Kenji springs into action. He pats James on the shoulder, "Don't worry, James. It's a good thing." Then, under his breath, " _It's a freaking awesome thing._ "

"We'd better get going," Warner says, holding out his hand to help me across the mud.

Adam slings James across his shoulders, eyes his bloodied hand suspiciously. Kenji, Adam, and James lead the way out of the yard. We return to the tank, squeezing ourselves into the small space. Kenji, refusing to tell us where we are going, takes the wheel. I can see the apprehension in Warner's eyes, but I lean against him inside the tank and I can feel his heart slow.

My eyes begin to fall closed. Of all of us, Warner and I have been awake the longest, and Warner tends to go days without sleep anyway. My body finally relaxes, my weight falling into Warner's side. His arm wraps around my waist, his head falling onto mine.

"So we haven't been introduced yet," James' voice warbles through the silence. I can only imagine he's talking to Warner. I try my best to stay awake for the conversation.

"No, I don't believe we have." Warner's chest vibrates ever so slightly under my ear. I wish he would say more. The timbre of his voice is putting me to sleep better than any medicine in the world.

"My name is James."

"Most people call me Warner. It's nice to meet you, James."

I can feel them shake hands, careful not to disturb me.

"So you can touch her?"

All the eyes in the tank find us. Too exhausted to provide an explanation, I let Aaron field the question. My eyes remain closed, my head against his chest. Adam shifts on the floor, trying not to seem interested. This information should be news to Kenji, but, for once, he remains quiet.

Warner runs a finger along my arm as if to prove James' observation, "Yes, I can."

"How did you find out?"

Now Aaron chuckles.

"I asked her to touch me," he says simply. I can hear Adam stiffen, clench his jaw. I feel for him, but cannot find the strength in me to change the conversation.

James, on the other hand, seems utterly fascinated, "You just _asked her to?_ Weren't you scared?"

"Terrified," Aaron says, adding more fingers to the one on my bicep. I can hear the smile in his voice. I so desperately want to give him one in return. "You'd have to be in my position to understand. It was rather a….tense moment."

Kenji snorts from the front seat, making me jump a little. Warner's arms soothe me, and soon enough I can barely understand the words being said around me. James misses Kenji's insinuation entirely.

"Are you two dating? I thought she was dating Adam..." He asks, careful with his wording.

" _James._ " Adam's voice suddenly makes its way into the conversation.

James' question is so abrupt I almost open my eyes. Surely they would know I'm awake by my blush anyway. I can feel Warner stiffen next to me. God knows I wouldn't want to answer this question were I in his shoes, but… something in me is begging him not to ignore it.

"Sorry," James says, that childish whine sneaking into his voice. I forget, sometimes, just how young he is. He's growing up before my eyes. I feel so proud of him, just having known him for this short time. Adam must be amazed with his transformation.

"That's alright," Warner says before falling silent again. For a moment I worry that he won't answer. I am just about to pack away in my mind so I can remember it for later, when he begins again.

"I don't suppose either of us know," he says, much quieter now. "I'm rather taken with her, but she is so...unpredictable. I couldn't begin to guess how she feels," Warner's fingers begin to play absently with my hair. The movement makes my entire scalp tingle. It takes every part of my being to keep my face indifferent. "As for her and your brother, you'll have to ask him about that."

Adam grunts, irritated that he's been dragged into this.

"Wow, James. It seems you've caught blondie in a good mood. Don't expect him to be this nice all the time." Kenji wriggles, his seat making a horrible noise against his soaked pants.

Warner's laughter rumbles through him. "He can, actually. You, Kishimoto? You cannot."

They all share a laugh before the silence takes over. The sound of the tank over gravel and Aaron's heartbeat put me to sleep immediately.


	26. Chapter 26

**Author's Note: I would like to start out, as I always do, with an apology. I wish I could say that I was trying to get this last chapter just perfect, but in reality I was just forgetful. I would also like to say a huge thank you to everyone that read this. It is amazing to me that you all would take the time to write such nice things in the comments, and I cannot tell you how lovely you all are. Unfortunately, this is the last chapter. It is super long, though, and I hope that it ties up any loose ends. As always, let me know if I made any mistakes. This was rewritten quite a few times over the last few months. Thank you, and enjoy!**

I stretch out across the sheets. New sheets. Clean sheets. Sheets resting on my very own bed. Tinges of a headache are tickling my brain, but the quiet around me is comforting. The clock on the wall reads 11:00. After all this time, this hour still means nothing to me. It means it is late. It is dark. The stars are out and everything is asleep. The leaders of this bunker ask to to remain in our rooms after this hour. And still it means nothing. I could remain awake for hours yet, or I could roll over and fall asleep right now. I wonder if I will even get that sense back.

I sigh and roll over, trying everything I can to make my brain relax. From the moment we arrived at this odd place, I have been stuffed full of information and explanations. This morning, after waking up in a hospital bed and meeting the healer twins, Sonya and Sara, Kenji pulled me around the building, introducing me to person after person whose name I wouldn't remember. Most importantly, he introduced me to Castle, a dark-skinned man who informed me that we were at "Omega Point," a safe haven for resistance fighters and people with powers like mine.

I am eternally grateful to Kenji. I finally feel whole. From the moment I woke up in the hospital bed, I no longer felt the need to look around every corner. I have a training schedule and chores, I have friends and people who understand what I am experiencing. I have a family. For the first time in years, I feel like I am finally where I am meant to be.

There is just one more thing that has been gnawing at me for about a month now.

One thing that can almost wait until morning. Almost.

I roll out of bed, my heart pounding with a decision I don't quite remember making. I am suddenly up and I don't know what I am doing. All I know is that it is late, and my roommates are missing, and that I probably cannot be trusted to make my own decisions. And still I run. I pad through the halls of Omega Point, trying to find him. Now that I've arrived, now that I am free, I want to be as honest with myself as possible. No more ignoring my feelings, no more crossing out lines in my journal. No more pretending that my heart doesn't leap out of my chest whenever I see a head of blonde hair.

I need to make this happen. The universe will not do it for me, will not change its ways for me. Especially not for my convenience. I have to adapt. I have to make decisions and plans and, no matter the consequences, I have to take action and never look back.

Of all the problems left to resolve, this is the smallest in the grand scheme of things. This affects nothing but the lives of two people, and it will do nothing but good. That is, if everything goes to plan.

This decision is the easiest because it has already been made. I want Warner. I want Warner. I need Warner. I need Warner.

I am in love with Aaron Warner.

And so the halls fly by, door after door blurring into one mass. It it pure luck that I run into no one. No guards on duty, no late night watches, no last minute attacks or drills. I can simply run, ninja-like and glorious, to the one person in this world that knew me even before I knew myself. Even when I know so little about him.

 _I will fix it all tonight._

I find his door, wring my hands a million times, and straighten my pajamas. I knock once, softly. My heart slamming into my throat is likely louder than my fist against the door.

 _This is the beginning,_ I remind myself. _This is the decision that will make or break me. This is the first step._

Luckily, he heard.

"Yes?" The door remains closed. His tone is skeptical, as well it should be. His shadow cuts through the light slanting out of the bottom. His voice is gloriously husky, but had no hint of sleep in it.

My hand falls softly against the door, feeling his presence on the other side.

"Aaron."

The door is open. Before I even know what has happened, the door is open and I am inside the room, standing under the fluorescent light in the arms of the blonde haired boy I so despised only weeks ago. How strange a life this is. How wonderfully strange and gloriously unpredictable. I realize then just how right Kenji is to call me princess. I should feel blessed, spoiled even, because no one can possibly feel the way I feel right now. No one else can possibly know these feelings because if everyone feels like this then how does anything ever get done? There is no need for a resistance, there is no revolution in this world when I am in Warner's arms because everything is right. Because everything I need is already here. How can anything be wrong?

I know how selfish this is, and I know that tomorrow we will be back where we started, probably worse off in all honesty, but we will persevere and we will survive. I will have Warner. I will have the family I never had. I will be loved. I will control my power. I will make sure that no one ever again feels the way that I once felt. We will once again be the land of abundance. Of plenty. Of everything that is morally and ethically right. We will stand together.

My brain rants on and on, stringing word after word in a way that I am sure breaks every convention in the English language, and yet, to me, it feels perfect. Something that I once would have written in my journal. Something I still might.

Then Warner kisses me and there are no more words. They have all left. All gotten into little hot air balloons, or packed themselves in beside gunpowder and shot toward the sky, creating this collage of slowly moving, yet simultaneously exploding bursts of wondrous light.

His lips are soft and warm. His arms are strong and commanding, but not threatening, not how I once saw them. He hugs me close. I lean into his neck to smell what I have long since identified as his scent. God, I love this man. The door closes behind us and I am pressed against it. I feel overwhelmed, awash in happiness and too many thoughts, and so so happy.

My hands, which were wrapped fiercely around his neck, work their way down his back.

And then the moment is broken.

Because Warner whimpers. And I die a little.

I place my hands on either side of his face, trying to identify the problem. My heart pounds harder even than it did in those moments I spent on the run."Aaron? Are you okay? Oh, God, did I hurt you? I am so sorry."

"No, love," he waves me off, trying to conceal his grimace. "It is nothing."

Under any other circumstances I would have rolled my eyes.

"It isn't nothing. You cannot do that to me. Not anymore."

Warner centers his eyes just beyond my head, refusing to speak. He catches his lip between his teeth in a way that nearly makes me forget what I'm doing. So stubborn. Willing him to acquiesce, I grab his shoulder and try to turn him around. Warner is infinitely stronger than me physically, but he can't deny me.

I pull his shirt up over his head and expose the plains of his back. Suddenly, there is no more air in my lungs, no more air in the entire room or even on planet Earth. There is only pain. My eyes follow the lines of his muscles, but I have no time to admire because I am too busy greeting horrible, angry red gashes. Old scars crisscross his skin like some demonic tic-tac-toe game. Laid through those are the scabs of new ones, ones he must have received this week. Ones he was likely given for protecting me. My friends. Us.

The whole room whirls. Hot tears fill my eyes, but I wipe them away before they have time to stain my cheeks. I wonder what accident could have bestowed these upon him. My mind tries to picture the savage that could have done this. What enemy could possibly have broken Aaron Warner? But I know it was no enemy. Warner has never been captured. Warner would never let himself be overtaken by anyone. Except one. The only one who has ever been able to crush Warner. I need him to say it.

"Aaron. What happened?"

His shoulders drop. He looks like he needs three years of sleep. He hates being exposed, being weak, and yet here he is, nearly naked in front of me, showing me something only one other person knows about.

My heart falters when he says,"My father."

My mind bombards itself with images of Warner, my Warner, my _Aaron,_ being beaten by his father. Being ignored until it was time to make him a man. Until it was time to draw him into the spotlight and make him the heir his father always pictured. I imagine him around James's age, running home to his mother where he can be safe for a while, only to be punished after. I realize then that I don't know anything about Warner's mother. I feel ashamed that I still know so little about the man I claim to love. I make a mental note to ask him about her. Soon.

"It was a selfish decision, to not take him down. I know better than anyone just how deep his evil runs, but in a world like this, you need family, no matter how dysfunctional."

Aaron speaks for the first time in ten minutes. I've been tending to his wounds with materials he stole from the medical wing. Despite my limited medical knowledge and my best efforts to convince him it was a bad idea, he denied proper care. Warner was adamant that Sonya and Sara not be disturbed. More than anything, I think he feared running into Kenji.

 _If only he could understand that this isn't failure. It's abuse._

My hands work sloppily, albeit quickly while he gasps, winces, and sucks air sharply through his teeth. Each flinch brings fresh tears to my eyes, but I cannot not stop trying to help. He will never say it, but this is my fault.

Through this all, he has been explaining his Hell of a childhood. His father's abuse and the state of his poor mother, Aaron explained it all. And I listened. I was tempted to cut in a few times, but this is his life, his story. He deserved to tell it the way he wanted.

I asked a few questions, here and there, mostly to keep him from clamming up again. Finally, though, the story came to a natural end. Itching inside my mouth was all that I wanted to tell him. All the questions he left unanswered. I smile that I, for once, have all the time in the world to learn the answers, but there is one that cannot wait.

"Aaron?" I squeak.

"Yes, love?"

My heart leaps. I wonder how I could have ever hated that word. _Love_.

"Why on earth would you put yourself through this?"

Warner's forehead crumples.

"Why did you let me leave the base? You knew what he was going to do to you."

Warner's voice drops dangerously. "We both know why, Juliette."

"But it was my fault! How could you still protect me after that?"

Hyperventilation almost feels natural after all these years. The breaths rock uncontrollably through my chest. My hands loop through my knotted hair and it's a wonder I don't tear it out at the roots. Aaron keeps trying to still me. My mind recognizes his attempts to catch my hands, but they slip from his grasp each time.

"Julie-"

"I was selfish! I made a mistake taking on your father and I made it not only my problem, but everyone else's as well. Kenji should never have come to me. I am not worth this. I am not worth the lives-"

" _Enough!"_ Warner yells, clasping his hands around my wrists. Warner pulls my hands against his chest. My heart stops. He's finally grown tired of me. Finally gotten so sick of me that he can't bear to listen to me speak anymore. I should never have come here tonight. I should never have let myself fall for him.

"Juliette, listen to me" his hands move to either side of my face. "None of this is your fault. You cannot blame yourself. I am the one that took you from that asylum. I tried to force you to be what I wanted you to be. I took you in for the most selfish reasons, and now here I am, holding you, making you fight this war with me. I dragged you into my world, Juliette. My mistakes are not your fault."

My head is spinning. The words are fighting their way out of my throat. It is a miracle that they find themselves in the proper order.

"No. I didn't cooperate. I angered your father. Now his entire army and yours are on the hunt for us. God," I say, pushing all the breath from my lungs. "They'll find us! They'll bomb this whole place." My face tingles with horror. Fear immobilizes my arms and tickles across my shoulders. "I've killed everyone here."

"My father and his men don't know a thing," he spits. His face contorts at some memory I wish I could purge from his mind. "They may be well-trained, but they are fools, Juliette. They think their job is done. They won't realize that I'm not back for a few days. We are not safe forever, but we have been aware of that reality since the moment you stepped foot off base. We will figure this out, Juliette. I promise."

His hands continue to stroke my arms. My senses are completely overrun. His fingers paint lighter fluid across my skin. His presence sets me ablaze. The smell of him, Sector 45's soap mixed with something earthy, is like a drug to me. For every breath I take I want three more. His shirt is soft under my fingers, and I am watching them twist through the fabric. My thumbnail follows the seam of his shirt.

His eyes find my fingers and I curl them under the cloth, placing them against his skin.

His gasp is addictive. His eyes fall shut and I see just how tired he is. My arm wraps around his neck, pulling him to my level. His forehead falls against mine.

"You promise?" I repeat, too strung out to keep worrying.

"I promise," he says, encircling me in his arms. He plants a kiss against the spot his forehead just left, then nuzzles my hair. I am melting.

"By the way, Juliette," Warner says, his voice transforming. "Your life is most certainly worth the loss of any here."

I shake my head. We have argued my worth far too many times since our reunion.

"Warner, I am one girl."

"One beautiful," he plants a kiss on my forehead. "Clever," my temple. "Clumsy," my dimple. We smile in tandem. "Glorious girl," my lips. "And you are worth any cost."

"I love you, Aaron Warner."

And he pounces.

His lips crash into mine, his hands wind through my hair, he pushes my back against the wall and I can feel all of the pent up emotions from these past weeks leave my system. All the stress, every moment of heartache I've experienced takes off from my heart, flying like the birds I always pictured.

"Aaron," I gasp, already breathless. "Aaron."

He pulls back, his face already falling. He's afraid I'll leave, afraid that he'll be all alone in this place. I know this because reflected in his eyes is the abuse I know too well. I just wish he would look into my eyes, into my heart and see that I will never leave his side again.

My lips try again and again to express their concern.

"Your back," is all they manage.

And he laughs. He laughs in the midst of all the emotion, startling me. The sound revives my heart. I am alive again. I almost forget myself all over again.

"You're worried about my back?" He asks, but then he kisses me, my cheek, my chin, and I suspect he doesn't really want an answer.

"Of course," I say, my voice a little weaker than I'd like. "It must hurt…"

He plants a kiss on my ear, eliciting a gasp. But I will not be swayed. We have plenty of time to spend together. I have already told him everything I came to say. He needs to rest. He needs a break from my destructive whirlwind of a life.

"You could get an infection," I try not to sway on my feet as his lips claim the soft spot below my ear. "It would-" A sigh. "It would only take a moment. Sonya and Sara are fast."

We both know I'm lying, but neither of us know why.

My mind waffles. Responsibility vs desire.

He will only hurt worse tomorrow. He needs to be taken care of. But if Kenji of Castle learns that we were alone together, we will never get another chance like this.

I sigh prepared to kick him out of his own room and send him to the infirmary when his lips reach my collarbone. His hands land on my waist. His scent envelopes my head and he makes this noise, low in his throat, that tips me over the edge.

He had his chance to see the twins.

I pull him to my height, fistfuls of his shirt clasped in my hands.

"You can see Sonya and Sara tomorrow," I have to close my eyes against his devious, sexy, insatiable smile. "Tonight you are mine."

His absurdly perfect lips quirk up even farther. "Deal."

And with that we fall into one another. It doesn't matter that Aaron will still fight me about his back tomorrow. It doesn't matter that we are breaking nearly every rule Omega Point has. It doesn't matter that the entire world is in upheaval and that half of it wants our heads.

The only things on my mind are his hands across my torso, down my legs, and mine returning the favor. _The planes of his chest, the locks of his hair, the sound of his ragged breath._

"Oh, love," he says, and I wonder that I ever hated that word. "The twins can heal my back, but you," he nudges my nose with his. My smile cracks my face open completely. "You have healed my soul."

He kisses me. Our limbs are tangled. My hair is matted. And still he kisses me, deeply, sweetly, hopefully. In that kiss I see my future with him, with Adam, with Kenji and James. All the things I thought I could never have are mine for the taking.

And I lose myself.

I bury my head in his chest.

"I love you, Aaron Warner."

He smiles longingly, despite being as close to me as humanly possible. He tilts my head back with his finger in much the same way he did when he saved me from the asylum. Our glances meet, an ocean swirling between them. It is made both our tears. It is colored with the shades of our eyes. It is beautiful.

I jump from the bed, vaulting Warner rather easily. He looks shocked, verging on hurt, but there has been far too much drama. There has been far too much emotion. It is time for some fun.

I look him dead in the eye. Put on my best seductive face. Urge him forward with my bending finger.

All I want is him. Aaron. My heart longs to have him all to myself and writhes in jealousy when he's away. In this moment, all I want is the complete knowledge of this boy. This confused, twisted, broken boy who is plagued with the ability only to harm when he wishes to help. This blonde haired being is my counterpart in every way. And I can only imagine what we will accomplish together. We have an entire army to take down. None of it matters, though, because we will do it as one.

He approaches me in the same way that he has a thousand times before, yet this moment is nothing like the ones that got us here. Warner advances toward me as if I am his. As if he desires something from me, as if he wants me. This I have grown accustomed to. This is nothing new. But there is a different air about us. Something that we can both sense, something that we are both endlessly grateful for, but still something that we would never be able to put into words. Warner approaches, desiring what he has always desired of me. The difference is, I am now ready to give it to him.

Aaron picks me up, launching me over his shoulder. He has his hand over my waist to secure me. My shirt has bunched above his arm and I revel in the contact.

"Your father will find us," I say, more teasing now than worried.

Warner laughs as he returns me to the bed, watching me bounce against the mattress.

A smooth bravado takes over his voice as he recites, "'Amen, amen. But come what sorrow can, it cannot counterveil the exchange of joy that one short minute gives me in her sight.'"* I watch as he slowly laces his fingers with mine, continuing, "Do thou but close our hands with holy words, then love-devouring death do what he dare; it is enough that I can but call her mine.'"**

"Aaron."

"Love."

Warner is just leaning in. His lips just about touching mine and his cheeks flushed with the prospect. My heart is beating me to death and my breath is betraying me.

 _This is it,_ I think to myself. _This is where my life finally begins._

Everything begins to fall away. Life and death do not exist, time and space have been sucked into a black hole and the only thing left in my universe is Aaron Warner and his broken past and our hopefully whole future.

Our cheeks are just brushing together as we hear a voice from the doorway. A voice that doesn't take on Shakespeare's characters, one that is, in fact, quite lost in the time period, but still makes the words his own. A voice that would make any hesitant child pick up a book and read.

"'These violent delights have violent ends and in their triumph die, like fire and powder. Which, as they kiss, consume.'"** The words linger in the air a moment, just as our lips linger on one another. Then, they are cut by the harshness of modern conversation and we are separated by bitter reality.

"You aren't the only one that knows Shakespeare, lover boy. Now get up you two. The shit has hit the fan."

We follow Kenji down the hall in our half-dressed state; no time for pants, according to the dark haired deviant.

"How much of our conversation did you hear?" I am terrified of the answer, but I ask anyway.

"Far too much, _love_. Far too much."

I blush from head to toe. I can only pray that no one comes out for a midnight snack.

He drags us to Castle's office. The poor man does a double take when Kenji presents us. We make quite the pair. Between Aaron's pants and socks and my shirt we almost make up a complete outfit. Oddly enough, this doesn't appear to be the first time Kenji has subjected two unfortunate lovers to this situation.

I find it hard to believe that Aaron, meticulous, obsessive Warner is not appalled by his current state, but to his credit he says nothing; he never takes his eyes, or hands, off of me.

"You ready for the rundown?" Kenji asks, amused with himself.

I nod excitedly, anxiety pooling in my stomach.

The rundown turns out to be nothing. A small skirmish that might lead to heavier watch over nearby compounds. I had been expecting an entire army, another country amassed outside Omega Point. I had pictured fighting off Warner's father in nothing but my underwear.

Strangely, though, I would have been ready for it. I would have been prepared. I finally feel ready for whatever life throws my way. With that in mind, I smile at Kenji's ridiculous expression, nod at Castle, and take Warner's hand. He and I will need many more standing behind us before we can accomplish anything, but together we will be unstoppable. Just like he said we would. For now, I will gladly be more careful when I emerge for fresh air, but tomorrow, or next week, or next year when the Supreme's army does come, I will fight back.

 **Author's Note: I consider the line, "And I lose myself." before this last section to be the end of this Fanfiction, but I wanted another cute Warnette scene, so I tacked on that last one as well. This chapter had very little editing (sorry!), but I felt that you guys deserved to read it before I forgot about it again. So, if there are any mistakes, I am sorry. I will iron out the little things when I get a chance. A lot of this chapter was written as individual segments that I combined, so some of the transitions need a little work as well. That being said, I am so thankful for all of you. You have come on this crazy ride with me. This being my first Fanfiction, I didn't know what to expect when I posted that first chapter. I actually intended it as a one-shot, and it became...well, this. For those of you that came into this story over a year ago looking for Warnette moments, sorry it took so long! All this way for a little Warnette...**

 **Anyway, thank you for reading my Fanfiction, thank you for the amazing comments and messages, and thank you for reading this terribly long note. You guys are the best.**


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